


To Be Human

by Meriwyn



Series: The Lord Commander and the Master of Law [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Family Secrets, Forgiveness, Game of Thrones Fix-It, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, More Fluff, Overcoming emotional trauma, Post - Game of Thrones (TV), The Braime Bunch, more smut, past sins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2020-10-05 14:57:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 106,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20490737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meriwyn/pseuds/Meriwyn
Summary: Part 3 of the Lord Commander and the Master of Law series; Sequel to "The Sapphire Wench".  The story of Bran Stark and Joanna Lannister's budding relationship and Bran's struggle to regain his humanity. Also the story of how Jaime and Brienne attempt to deal with their seven very different children.  Hilarity ensues...most of the time.  Set 19 years after "The Sapphire Wench"This work is dedicated to Sarah.  And to Arto...who gives me all the feels to keep going.  Thank you.





	1. A Pride of Lions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the Lannister pride, and learn a few of their secrets.

The ringing of the swords carried across the training yard, its two sole occupants locked in a dance of steel and sweat. Almost equally matched, the combatants moved like a fluid pair, almost as if they were floating on water. Tails of leather coats flew upwards as they spun around, boots scuffled across the sand and sawdust as they jumped away from and around each other. On and on they danced until finally the taller of the pair managed to sweep the other’s foot out from under them and send them tumbling down to the ground and onto their back.

“Do you yield?” Ser Brienne Lannister said, a smirk on her face.

Nineteen-year-old Ser Joanna Lannister put a hand up to block the sun so she could see her mother’s face. She smiled up at her, panting.

“Someday I’m going to have to get you to teach me that move, Mumma,” she said. Brienne reached down to help Joanna to her feet.

“That’s the trick I use to get your father on his back all the time,” Brienne said, once again smirking at her daughter.

“Somehow I’m sure he doesn’t mind it all that much,” Joanna said, fixing her mother with a glare that was entirely Jaime.

They walked over to one of the benches and sat down. Joanna pulled her thick golden blonde braid over her shoulder so that she could remove her gorget from around her neck. Once it was off, she sighed happily.

“Much better, I do hate these things,” she placed the gorget next to her on the bench.

“Yes, well, until you learn to fully defend yourself, I’d rather you not end up with an accidental blade through your throat,” Brienne said.

Joanna rolled her eyes. “Mumma, you worry too much.”

The door to the Keep opened and out strode sixteen-year-old Galladon Lannister, his dark blonde hair flowing in the afternoon breeze.

“Oh look, it’s the peacock,” Joanna teased him, giving her brother a devilish grin. He narrowed his blue eyes at her as he walked towards them.

“Oh, shut up, sister, you’re just jealous because I’m so much prettier than you,” he smirked at her.

“Hey,” Brienne interjected. “That’s enough, you’re both pretty and that’s the end of it.” She looked up at her son. “Here for your lessons, my love?”

Galladon nodded. “Yes, Ser Mumma,” he always liked to tease her with that. While he had Brienne’s eyes and her long legs, Galladon had every inch of Jaime’s snarky personality. Brienne huffed at him and he smiled.

“Where is your brother?” she asked him.

“Which one?”

“Selwyn.”

“Where else? With Uncle Tyrion,” Galladon answered. “Arthur and the girls are with Maester Barrish doing their geography lessons.”

“Who is training with you today?” Brienne said.

“Ser Ashtin I believe,” Galladon answered her.

Joanna rolled her eyes. “What’s he training you in today? How to properly hold your mirror so you can gaze into your own eyes?”

“Well at least my mirror doesn’t crack when I look into it,” Galladon said with a scowl.

“I would think by now you wouldn’t even need a mirror, brother, you probably have every inch of your face memorized.”

Galladon dropped his sword and gloves on the ground and leapt at his sister. Joanna shrieked and bounded off the bench, running away laughing. Galladon chased after her and they ran around in circles for a bit until he managed to wrestle Joanna to the ground where they began grappling, Joanna still laughing.

“Come on, you two,” Brienne yelled at them. When they ignored her she sighed and put her face in her hand.

“Problem?”

Brienne looked up to see Jaime with eighteen-year-old Brynna Lannister on his arm. He leaned down to kiss Brienne on the forehead, his graying beard grazing against her skin.

“Yes, can you please go control your offspring? Today they are entirely _your_ children, my love.”

Jaime smiled and looked to where his eldest daughter and eldest son were attempting to mess up each other’s hair while rolling around in the sand and sawdust. Brynna slipped her hand out of her father’s arm and sat daintily next to her mother. She leaned over to kiss Brienne on the cheek.

“Hello, Mumma.”

“Hello, my darling,” Brienne said, putting her arm around her second daughter. “My good, sweet, refined, gentle darling.”

Brynna laughed her musical laugh and rested her head on Brienne’s shoulder, her perfectly coiffed long blonde curls spilling over Brienne’s armor.

Jaime sighed and stalked over to Joanna and Galladon, his golden hair that now had an equal amount of silver in it, gleaming in the sun.

“Hey, you two, that’s enough,” he said in a tone that was not at all authoritative. Laughing, he reached down to yank Galladon to his feet with one hand and Joanna with the other. Within seconds they were all laughing.

“It’s no wonder no one takes your father seriously,” Brienne said to Brynna, who once again giggled her sweet laugh against her mother’s shoulder.

Jaime, Galladon, and Joanna walked back over, the latter two dusting themselves off. Jaime sat down next to Brienne and slipped his arm around her, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.

“Crisis averted,” he whispered in her ear before kissing her behind it. Brienne smiled and leaned into his lips.

“Thank you, love.”

“Ugh, Papa, must you?” Galladon made a face of disgust. Jaime looked up and scowled at his son.

“Someday you’ll understand, my boy,” he said, and placed one more kiss on his wife’s face.

“Oh, don’t worry, Papa,” Joanna said, her green eyes lighting up with mischief. “Galladon knows all about kissing, don’t you brother?” Joanna winked at him. “Why, just the other day I caught him in the Godswood with Lady—“

“Joanna,” Galladon growled through gritted teeth. He made a move to go at her again when Jaime held up his hand.

“Ah! Stop it,” he looked at Joanna. “Bean…” he gave her a not-at-all stern parental glare.

“Yes, Papa, I know,” she rolled her eyes.

Brynna looked at Galladon and smiled, lightly shaking her head. He returned her look and stuck his tongue out at her, but smiled back.

The door to the Keep opened once more and thirteen-year-old twins Alysanne and Arianne Lannister appeared, followed by the youngest of the Lannister brood, eleven-year-old Arthur. Always the polite boy, Arthur remained and held the door open as Ser Podrick, Ser Ashtin, the maester at arms, and a few others also entered the yard. Brienne watched as Podrick stopped to smile at Arthur and ruffle his headful of white blonde curls.

Also entering the yard was a group of ladies who had come out to watch the training sessions.

“Oh look, brother, here comes your gaggle of admirers,” Joanna quipped. Galladon merely rolled his eyes at her and stooped to pick up his gloves and sword.

Jaime stood up to reposition himself. Straddling the bench, he put a leg on either side of Brienne and pressed himself up against her, snaking his arms around her and nuzzling her cheek.

“Remember those days?” He said quietly. Brienne gave him a sideways glance and snorted.

“Yes, love, all too well,” she laughed, nuzzling him back.

Galladon made a noise of amused disgust and wandered over to where some of the knights and his trainer were standing. As expected, the group of ladies off to the side began whispering excitedly and feasting on him with their eyes. Galladon pretended not to notice.

The ladies were pretty and flirted with him, of course, but he was mostly bored with them and longed for a challenge. Looking back over at his parents and his siblings, who had now been joined by the twins and Arthur, he noticed Brynna was looking at him, her expression one of sad sympathy. Galladon gave her a small smile.

Brynna understood him. Brynna understood all of them actually. She was their secret-keeper, their confidant. She always made time for all of them and was an expert listener and counselor. Galladon turned away to talk with his peers.

“Hello, Mumma,” Alysanne said, leaning forward to give Brienne a kiss on the cheek. She then moved to give Jaime one as well. “Hello, Papa.” Arianne repeated the greetings in reverse order.

“Hello, my darlings,” Brienne said. The twins moved to sit on the bench on the other side of Brynna and once they were settled, Arianne began combing her fingers through Alysanne’s hair and then began braiding it into an intricate pattern. The two started chattering at each other like they always did, speaking in half-sentences and finishing each other’s thoughts in a way only they understood. Currently they were giggling to each other.

Arthur came forward and stood between his parents, leaning into Brienne. He said nothing, just quietly observed. Brienne put her arms around him and kissed him on the top of his head.

“My little love,” she whispered to him. Arthur snuggled against her. Jaime leaned forward and also laid a kiss on his son’s curls, stroking his head afterwards. Brienne pulled Arthur into her lap where he sat and watched the knights training, his sapphire blue eyes wide and attentive. Even though Arthur was probably much too old to be sitting on his mother’s lap, he was Brienne’s baby, and she dared anyone to deprive her of his sweet moments when he let her coddle him even now.

Finally, the last of their children, fifteen-year-old Selwyn, entered the yard, along with almost constant companion, his Uncle Tyrion. Joanna laughed as the group of ladies took notice of Selwyn as well. Galladon and Selwyn had the same dark blonde colored hair, but where Galladon had Brienne’s eyes, Selwyn had his father’s.

“Well, well!” Jaime shouted. “All of my children in one place, have the stars aligned suddenly?”

Selwyn ran at Joanna and bear-hugged her from behind, attempting to knock her over. When that didn’t work he simply gave her a loud kiss on the cheek and a “hello, sister.” Joanna elbowed him in the ribs and then broke into a bright smile when she noticed Tyrion standing there.

All four Lannister girls suddenly ran at their uncle. Joanna and Brynna knelt down on either side of him, while Arianne and Alysanne stood at his back. They all leaned in and hugged him at the same time, burying him in laughter and unruly amounts of blonde locks.

“Hellooooo, Uncle Tyrion,” they all said, overlapping each other in sing-song-y voices, kissing him all over his face.

Tyrion sighed, as happy as any man. “Ah, my girls, whatever would I do without you all.”

They all giggled and went back to their spots on the bench. Tyrion, blushing, climbed up on the bench and sat next to Jaime.

“This brood is quite a chaotic bunch,” Tyrion said to his brother. “None of them ever sit still, except maybe that one,” he pointed at Brynna and winked at her.

Brynna giggled and leaned across both her parents to grab Tyrion’s hand. “It’s only because I enjoy your company so much, Uncle,” she flashed him her sweet smile. Tyrion melted. He had a special fondness for Brynna, as she seemed to have inherited her mother’s love of chess matches with him.

“Yes, they are all quite a handful, but I wouldn’t trade them for all the riches in the world,” Jaime said, smiling wistfully and reaching out to take Brynna’s chin in his hand. Pulling his hand back, he briefly paused to touch Brienne’s sapphire necklace. “Sometimes I still can’t believe they’re really ours,” he whispered to her.

“I carried them all, they’re most definitely ours,” she snorted. Jaime laughed.

Joanna moved to sit next to Tyrion. He took her hand and kissed it fondly.

“And how is my eldest niece this afternoon?” He asked her.

“Fine, uncle, I was just sparring with Mumma before we were invaded,” she chuckled. “Were you just with Bran?” She asked as innocently as she could.

“Yes actually, he’s in his chambers until supper time.”

“I start duty at that time so I guess I’ll be bringing him there.”

The small smile on her face did not go unnoticed by Tyrion. He decided not to mention it to her and filed it away for later discussion. Leaning over to kiss her uncle on the cheek, Joanna stood up and turned to her parents.

“I’m off to get cleaned up for duty later, I’ll see you all at supper,” she leaned down to kiss Jaime on the cheek and then Brienne. She ruffled Arthur’s hair as well.

“Until later, my darling,” Brienne said. Brynna also stood up.

“Wait, Joanna, I’ll go with you,” she said, also turning to kiss her parents before trailing along after her sister.

“Well that was short-lived,” Jaime said. He reached out and pulled Arthur off of Brienne and onto his own lap, noticing how entranced with the fighters his son was. “Do you want to go practice with me for a bit before supper?”

Arthur looked up at his father, his bright blue eyes lighting up. “Yes, please, Papa,” he said quietly, hopping off Jaime’s lap, waiting patiently while his father got to his feet. Jaime’s joints cracked and he groaned and stretched when he stood. Brienne chuckled.

“Go on then, old man.”

Jaime scowled at her and then leaned down to kiss her. “I’ll show you how old I am later tonight,” he whispered against her lips. Brienne smiled and brought her hand up to stroke his almost totally gray beard. When he straightened up again, Arthur slipped his hand gently into Jaime’s, waiting to follow him to the armory at the other end of the yard.

Arthur and Jaime had a special bond when it came to fighting. The maester at arms and his parents had discovered Arthur was ambidextrous three years ago when he had begun training. This had delighted Jaime for two reasons. First, because Arthur had been named for one of Jaime’s boyhood heroes, Ser Arthur Dayne, who also happened to wield two swords. Second, because it meant Jaime could help train him himself, since he could work on Arthur’s left handed skilled with a blade.

Brienne smiled as she watched them walk away, chuckling as Jaime stopped to ruffle Galladon’s hair as they walked past where he was training with Ser Ashtin.

“Mumma, can we braid your hair?” Arianne suddenly asked her. She and Alysanne had finished each other’s hair and were now moving on to their mother.

“Of course, darling,” Brienne said. Both girls moved around to the back of the bench where Brienne was sitting and set to work on plaiting her hair, which now hung down between her shoulder blades. Selwyn plopped himself down between Brienne and Tyrion. Leaning back on his hands, he stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles.

“Speaking of hair,” Brienne said, running her fingers through her son’s locks. “You need a trim, it’s almost grown over your eyes, and I won’t be deprived of seeing your beautiful eyes, my darling.”

Selwyn turned and winked at his mother, giving her a wide grin. “All the sailors wear it this way, Mum, at least the ones that have hair,” he snickered in his charming way. He then gestured at his uncle sitting to his left. “Even Uncle Tyrion wears it this way, isn’t that right, Uncle?”

“Don’t get me on the wrong side of your mother,” Tyrion quipped. “I won’t come out alive.”

“No, wait, let’s do it this way,” Alysanne said from behind Brienne, moving to undo whatever she and her twin had just done with Brienne’s hair.

“Oh, and let’s put flowers in it too!” Arianne added, running over to the edge of the yard to pick a few wildflowers that grew against the stone wall.

“Don’t get too involved back there,” Brienne said. “I still have to clean up for supper, I’m a mess after sparring with your sister.”

“You’re never a mess, Mum,” Selwyn said, leaning over to give her a loud kiss on her cheek.

“Your charms don’t always work, young man, and neither do your father’s, for that matter,” Brienne snarked. Selwyn was so much like Jaime it made Brienne wonder if this is what he was like when he was young. Tyrion seemed to hear her thoughts.

“You remind me so much of your father when he was your age,” he said to his protégé. “All smarm and flattery and good looks,” he purposely left off the part where Jaime had been sleeping with their sister at Selwyn’s age as well.

“Oh, Mum, Ser Davos said I could go with him on his next trip if you’re agreeable,” Selwyn said, giving his mother his best big green eyes, attempting to get her to indulge him.

“We’ll discuss it with your father and Davos over supper tonight,” she said.

“That’s not a _no,_” he grinned at her again.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Your Grace, are you ready to go to supper?” Joanna smiled at King Bran Stark, who was seated on the outside terrace to his chambers. Turning his head to look at her, he smiled gently back at her.

“We’re quite alone,” he said to her, chuckling ever so softly. “You can call me Bran.”

Joanna turned to look over her shoulder, making sure that they were in fact alone. When she was certain they were, she walked over to Bran and knelt down in front of his wheelchair, taking both of his hands in hers.

“I missed you today,” she said quietly. Bran brought one of his hands up to caress Joanna’s face.

“And I you.”

Pushing herself up to rest on her knees, she leaned forward and kissed him gently on his lips. Pulling away again, she brought her hand up to rest over his where it laid on her cheek. She wrapped her fingers around his hand and placed a kiss on his palm.

“I worry about you, my darling,” Joanna said, her eyes searching his unreadable face. “You always seem so alone.”

Bran curved the corner of his mouth into half a smile. “Comes with the territory I’m afraid. Sometimes I think you love a lost cause.”

Joanna reached up with her other hand to caress his face in return. “I don’t think that, not for a minute.”

Bran sighed. “Your uncle once asked me if I wanted to be Lord of Winterfell, and I told him I don’t want much of anything anymore,” he looked into Joanna’s eyes. “I want to want things again.”

“I know, my darling, we’ll get you there again, I just know we will.”

“When I became the Three-Eyed Raven, it was all so fast, and my mentor was taken from me too soon, I didn’t have time to learn how to control it, and it consumed me.”

Joanna raised herself up again on her knees and put her hands on either side of Bran on the arms of his chair. “Just the fact that you _know_ that is a step in the right direction. We’ll figure this out together, I’m not leaving your side.”

Bran reached out to take a tendril of her golden blonde hair in his fingers. “My sweet girl,” he said tenderly.

“Besides, I’m part of your kingsguard, I can’t leave your side by law,” she teased him and then laughed.

Bran actually laughed in return and pulled her to him so he could kiss her again.

“Now then, didn’t you say something about supper? I’m starving.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brienne pulled the covers back and slid into bed where Jaime was already waiting. He immediately reached for her like he always did every night, wrapping himself around her and burying his face in her neck, where he started giving her his trademark soft slow kisses.

“So, what was that about me being an old man?”

Brienne sighed. “I’m worried about Galladon.”

Jaime stopped his romantic advances and brought his head up to look at her.

“I’m trying to seduce you and you want to talk about our son?” He chuckled. Brienne turned her head towards him, the crease between her brows whenever she was worried prominent.

“I’m serious, love, I don’t like what Joanna said in the yard today, about catching him with…whoever she saw him with. I don’t want him getting into a situation he can’t get himself out of.”

Jaime reached out and pulled Brienne’s shoulder towards him so she rolled to face him.

“Love, he’s six and ten, this isn’t anything new for a boy his age. I was already sleeping with Cersei for three years by the time I was his age, unfortunately,” he made a face like he would rather forget that part of his life. “I’ll talk to him.”

“I know, but…”

“Actually, Bree, you should be thankful. Tyrion was already a regular at every brothel within a days’ ride from Casterly Rock when he was Gall’s age.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Jaime smiled and laughed again. “No, but this is…” he returned to kissing her.

“You know, I told our second son today that your charms don’t always work on me,” Brienne said sarcastically.

“Yes they do,” Jaime mumbled from somewhere between her neck and her pillow.

Brienne sighed in defeat. “You’re right, they do,” she said, surrendering to her husband’s touch like she did every night.


	2. The Old Man and the Party Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations begin for the celebrations of Bran's 20th year as King. And a bit of smut to start us off ;)

Brienne moaned and wrapped her arms further around Jaime’s shoulders, moving a hand up to entangle it in his hair. He smiled as he dropped kisses all over her neck and collarbones.

“See, I told you my charms still work on you,” he whispered into her ear, his hips lazily thrusting as he moved inside her. Jaime slid his left hand into Brienne’s right, intertwining their fingers. He then slid their hands up until they rested above Brienne’s head.

Following his lead, Brienne took his stump in her other hand and brought them up to meet their already joined hands above her head, forcing Jaime to put his full weight on her. He groaned softly and closed his eyes, working himself in and out of her slowly and sensuously. Brienne arched up into him, squeezing Jaime’s hips with her thighs which were spread on either side of him. Jaime smiled and once again dipped his head into the crook of her neck, gently sinking his teeth into that spot where her neck met her shoulder…the spot he knew made her cry out and writhe beneath him.

Sure enough, it worked again as always. Brienne pushed her body upwards into him again, groaning his name and clutching his hand and his stump in her hands which still rested above them. When he made love to her slowly like he was now, it drove both of them absolutely mad. Brienne raised her feet off the bed and let her legs hang in the air, letting Jaime’s deep slow thrusts move her entire body with his.

“For an old man you’ve still got it,” Brienne breathlessly teased him. Jaime smiled against her neck and nipped at her again.

“A fuck a day keeps the maester away,” he laughed against her ear.

Even though he was two and sixty now, Jaime was aging like the finest Dornish wine. He was still muscular and lean, and Brienne thought the gray in his hair and beard only made him even more absurdly handsome.

Brienne turned her head and nuzzled his cheek with hers, moving her feet to rest on his calves. Jaime hummed quietly and nuzzled her in return.

“How is it after all these years you still make me feel like I did when we first met?” Brienne said quietly, now focused on the feel of his chest hair against her breasts.

“That’s exactly it, love,” he murmured. “Years and years of practice,” he kissed her behind her ear.

Jaime’s breathing suddenly began to become heavier and he made little moans in between each breath. He was close. Brienne freed her hands from his and moved them down his sides, eventually grabbing his ass with both of her hands and gently digging her nails into him.

Jaime groaned again and then made a few grunting noises in succession, each one rising higher than the one before. Brienne gripped his backside harder, aiding him in his thrusting. Finally Jaime bit down on her shoulder again and his guttural moan was swallowed up by Brienne’s skin as she felt him release inside her. Finally he sunk all of his weight onto her again, sighing happily.

Jaime lazily ran his left hand down Brienne’s neck, over her shoulder and down her chest, where it finally settled around her breast and then remained there. After having seven children, Brienne’s breasts had grown a bit and hadn’t gone back to their original size. Jaime, of course, took full advantage of that fact.

Brienne ran her fingers lightly over Jaime’s back and shoulders. He made his purring noise quietly in his chest. He would usually lie on her for several minutes until he eventually slid off and onto his side before pressing up against her to go to sleep, which is why Brienne was surprised when some time had passed and Jaime hadn’t moved.

“Jaime,” she whispered. He was becoming quite weighty, and Brienne realized that he had fallen asleep. “Jaime,” she gently shook him.

“Hmm,” he grunted softly, his hand tightening around her breast.

“Jaime,” Brienne said a little louder, trying not to laugh. His head came up a little.

“…don’t want….get up…yet…” his head fell back down on her chest, his face tucked under her chin.

Brienne chuckled. “You don’t have to get up, love, it’s the middle of the night, but you’re getting rather heavy.”

Jaime whined in his throat again. “…warm…soft…comfortable…”

Brienne sighed and kissed his forehead. “Fine, a few more minutes.” She resumed running her hands over his back and as a result she felt him sink even more into her. She closed her eyes and smiled and realized…maybe he wasn’t too heavy after all.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tyrion sat at the small council table, going over scrolls and parchments detailing the plans for the celebration of the twentieth year of Bran’s reign. Bran sat at the opposite end of the table, Joanna to his right in her Kingsguard armor. Bronn was also there, he and Tyrion trying to figure out how much this upcoming celebration was going to cost. Tyrion sighed and put his face in his hand.

“Do we really need jugglers?” He said.

_“No,”_ Bran said emphatically. “Do we really need to do this at all?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Tyrion said. “Your twentieth year of being King only comes once.”

“Well how about I abdicate and then you re-crown me the next day and we start over?” Bran said, his face as emotionless as ever.

“Did I hear you right?” Bronn said. “Did you just make a _joke?”_

Joanna snorted and tried to hold in her laugh.

Bran looked over at Bronn. “Careful, I can have you executed.”

Bronn’s face lit up and he looked to Tyrion. “Ha! He made another one!”

“Or did I?” Bran said before lifting the corner of his mouth in a smirk. Bronn actually looked frightened for a moment.

“When is this all to take place?” Joanna asked her uncle.

“In six weeks,” Tyrion answered her. “That should give anyone who wishes to travel to King’s Landing plenty of time. There’s to be a grand feast and a tourney as well.”

“Oh! That sounds lovely, doesn’t it, Your Grace?” Joanna said, attempting to cheer him up.

Bran simply nodded, giving her a quick tense smile.

“I do hope your wife and children will be joining us for the festivities, Bronn,” Bran said, showing the Master of Coin that he had, in fact, been joking about his untimely demise.

Bronn had married Lady Luciya Caron of Nightsong fifteen years ago, mostly in order to further secure the lands of the Reach. They had two children who remained at Highgarden with their mother. While it was rarely spoken about in public, it was well known that Bronn still frequented the King’s Landing brothels. As could be expected, Bronn cared little for family life, he just wanted an heir to inherit his lands and title. It was also rumored that Lady Luciya had her share of lovers as well, and her tastes ran towards much younger men.

“I will have them come here, yes,” Bronn said, obviously not thrilled with the notion.

“And your sisters will be joining us, I trust, Your Grace?” Tyrion asked, once again flipping through parchments.

“I assume they will, yes.”

“Good!” Tyrion said. “I think I’ll get Jaime to oversee the tourney arrangements, he should enjoy that,” he grinned wide, knowing the exact opposite would happen.

“Well, in the interest of coin and planning, let’s keep it as simple as possible,” Bran said.

“I second that,” Bronn added.

“I’ll agree to a tourney and a feast, and even minstrels and other music, but please, no jugglers, fools, theatrical plays or any other thing of the sort,” Bran said, turning to gaze out of the window.

“As you wish, Your Grace,” Tyrion said, watching him carefully. He noticed Joanna slip a hand under the table to rest it on Bran’s knee. “There is also one other matter.”

Bran turned back to look at his Lord Hand.

“They will expect you to ride out to greet the people,” Tyrion said cautiously. “They will line the streets to cheer you, and they’ll want to see you.”

Bran snorted. “And they’ll all look at me with pity…their broken king, isn’t that how I’m known? Bran the Broken?” He said, waving his hand.

No one said anything. Joanna made a move to put her hand on his shoulder but then realized where she was and quickly pulled back.

“Your Grace, forgive me, but,” Tyrion started. “Do you remember when you were a boy and I made you a saddle?”

Bran started and then narrowed his eyes, looking past Tyrion at something far away.

“Yes,” he said quietly.

“We could make another,” Tyrion said, just as quiet as Bran.

After a few moments of silence, Joanna spoke up.

“Your Grace,” she said, her voice low and soothing. “On a horse, you’d be just as tall as any man.”

Bran looked at her, and for a moment Joanna wasn’t sure whether he would berate her for being impudent or kiss her. He did neither, and looked back at Tyrion.

“We can discuss it later, right now I would like to go to the Godswood please.”

Joanna stood up. “Of course, Your Grace.” She looked at her uncle and gave him an apologetic look. Tyrion simply stared back at her and nodded in defeat.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Good, good!” Jaime said to Arthur as they trained together in the yard. “You’re dropping your left shoulder just a bit though, sweetling.”

Arthur stopped to stand up straight in front of his father and pushed his shoulders back, gripping a sword in each hand. “Is that better, Papa?” He said softly.

“Yes, just like that, perfect,” Jaime said. Arthur grinned proudly at him. Jaime held _The Sapphire Wench_ up, the blade out horizontally in front of him. “Now, try again, and remember, the goal is to not have your swords slip off my blade.”

Arthur fixed his face with a look of determination and held up both swords. In a move that seemed impossible for someone only eleven years old, Arthur gracefully stepped towards Jaime, spun around while twirling both swords like a windmill, and landed both blades squarely on the blade of _Sapphire Wench._ The blades rang out but landed on their mark and stayed there. Arthur’s face lit up and he turned his big blue eyes up at his father.

“I did it!”

Jaime beamed back at his son. “Yes, you did, sweetheart, that was perfect!”

“Well done, Arthur!” Podrick had suddenly appeared in the yard, trailed by his son, Garrad. Garrad was the same age as Arthur and the two of them had become inseparable best friends. Arthur brightened even more when he saw him.

“Hello, Garrad!” He waved at his friend.

“Hello, Arthur,” Garrad answered him. “That was a really neat move!”

Garrad Payne took after his father, dark hair and soft dark eyes with a kind smile and an eagerness to please. Podrick had married twelve years ago, and he and his wife, Sosan, had two children, Garrad and a younger daughter, who Podrick had insisted they name Brienne.

“Do you boys want to train together for a bit?” Pod asked. “Jaime and I can watch and help where needed.”

The boys looked at each other and their faces lit up.

“Yeah!” Garrad screamed excitedly.

“Yes, please,” Arthur said, quiet and polite as usual.

“Alright, let’s go get your sword and shield,” Podrick said to his son, leading him to the armory. Jaime sheathed _Sapphire Wench_ and walked over to a nearby bench and sat down, Arthur following and sitting next to him. Jaime noticed his son eyeing his sword, his small hand reaching out to touch the hilt with his fingertips.

“Someday I’ll carry matching swords like this,” Arthur whispered. Jaime reached out and stroked his son’s curls.

“Yes, I believe you will,” he said. When Arthur’s eyes didn’t stray from Jaime’s sword, he once again unsheathed it and balanced the end of the blade on his stump, holding out the hilt to the boy.

Arthur looked up at Jaime with uncertainty, but Jaime nodded. Arthur took the hilt in his hand and brought the _Sapphire Wench_ up in front of him, holding it upright with the blade pointing to the sky. Jaime smiled as he watched his son’s eyes rove over the blade, the ripples of the Valyrian steel dancing in the sunlight.

Arthur stood up and slowly walked a few paces away from the bench. “It’s heavy,” he whispered, seemingly speaking to himself. He hefted the blade in his hand and flipped it over a few times, trying to get a good grip on it with his slender hand. Tightening his grasp, he suddenly took a ready stance and then began to dance with the sword.

He twirled it and swiped with it, jumping nimbly and spinning as if fighting an unseen foe. A smile crept over the boy’s face as he and the sword moved as one.

Jaime sat mesmerized, watching how his son moved with the grace and skill of someone twice his age. _Sapphire Wench’s_ silver hilt gleamed in the sunlight, the sapphires winking back at him like Brienne’s eyes.

Podrick and Garrad came back over and Arthur stopped his dancing. He walked back over to Jaime and held the _Sapphire Wench_ out to him hilt first. Jaime took it gently from him, looking back at his son in silent amazement.

“Thank you, Papa,” Arthur said softly. Jaime once again sheathed his sword and reached out to pull Arthur to him. Cupping his son’s face in his hands he looked into his eyes that were somehow even bigger and bluer than Brienne’s. He kissed Arthur on the forehead and then hugged him.

“You’re going to be one of the greatest swordsmen Westeros has ever seen, I just know you are,” Jaime whispered into Arthur’s hair.

“I hope so, Papa,” Arthur whispered back. Jaime looked up at Pod and released Arthur from his embrace.

“Ready?” Jaime smiled at Pod. Podrick in turn looked down at Garrad.

“I think so.”

Garrad took Arthur’s arm. “Come on, Arthur.”

“Okay,” Arthur trailed along after his friend after picking up his swords.

Podrick sat down next to Jaime and left their sons to their sparring. Jaime watched them and smiled.

“I’m glad they have each other, Pod, I worry about Arthur sometimes. He’s so shy it breaks my heart.”

“I’m glad too,” Podrick said. “I wouldn’t worry too much about him, Ser Jaime, he’ll come into his own one day. Besides, my son is chatty enough for the both of them.” He chuckled.

Jaime smiled and looked at Podrick. “And where is my darling wife today?”

“In her office, I believe,” Podrick answered. “I know she was meeting with a few of the Kingsguard earlier.”

“And where is yours?”

“She and little Brienne are down in the marketplace in search of some scented oils, thread for needlework, and gods know what else.”

Jaime smiled as he always did whenever Pod mentioned his daughter. It tickled Jaime to no end that his wife had someone named after her, especially when that name had been given by someone who admired her utterly and completely. On the day of Little Brienne’s birth, Brienne Lannister had given the baby a braided lock of her hair, which Sosan Payne kept in a small box in the girl’s room, along with a few trinkets that had special meaning. Brienne had only done that one other time, when she had gifted Jaime with a lock of her hair on their tenth wedding anniversary. From that day on, Jaime kept it in the inside breast pocket of whatever jacket or coat he happened to be wearing on any given day, right next to his heart. Brienne had also braided it and tied it at both ends with blue ribbons.

Jaime’s hand went to rest over where it laid in his pocket.

“Little Brienne’s name day is actually coming up soon,” Pod said. “I can’t believe she’s going to be eight already.”

Jaime snorted. “Treasure these days, Pod, they’ll be gone before you know it and you’ll have teenagers.”

“Ser Brienne reminds me of that every chance she gets,” Pod laughed.

“Ah, Jaime! Just the man I was looking for,” Tyrion said as he strode towards them from across the yard.

“Oh no, I’m not going to like this, am I?” Jaime said.

“Most likely not,” Tyrion said as he took a seat next to his brother. “As you know there will be a grand celebration in six weeks, honoring the twentieth year of the King’s reign.”

“Yes?” Jaime said skeptically.

“I have decided you will oversee the tourney,” Tyrion said, smiling and looking rather smug.

“Ugh,” Jaime groaned. “Seriously? Why not Brienne?”

“Because I picked you, and stop trying to pass everything off onto your wife, you lazy git.”

“Remind me to never do you any favors ever again,” Jaime said. “Why thank you, Pod, I would actually love your help with that! Thank you for volunteering!” He said, turning to Podrick who had no time to even react before being pressured into service.

Podrick fixed Jaime with a blank stare. Jaime patted him on the shoulder.

“Good lad, Pod.”


	3. Songs and Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion hits up another victim in planning for Bran's celebrations, Selwyn sails with Davos, Joanna and Bran have a breakthrough

Brynna Lannister sat sideways on a bench in the gardens of the Red Keep, her lap harp propped between her knees of her crossed legs. She was singing a quiet ballad about a lady who wandered the shore at night pining for her lost love who had gone out to sea as a sailor.

Her brother, Galladon, sat lounging against her, his back pressed up against hers, his head pillowed against her thick blonde waves. He had one of his feet planted on the bench, his knee raised, while his other leg was stretched out lengthwise in front of him.

It was a sunny and breezy day, so Galladon had his leather jacket undone as well as the top half of his shirt so the sun could warm his chest. With his eyes closed as he lounged lazily against his sister, he was quite the specimen. The groups of ladies that periodically wandered by, sometimes more than once, couldn’t help but gawk at him. He winked or smiled at a few of them as they sauntered by him, but mostly he kept his eyes closed so he wouldn’t have to interact with them more than that. Instead, he lost himself in Brynna’s singing. The sounds of the gulls from the bay crying overhead only enhanced her tune.

_As I walked out one morning_  
_ All on a calm Spring day_  
_ Down by a flowery garden_  
_ I carelessly did stray_

_I overheard a young maid_  
_ In sorrow did complain_  
_ All for her absent lover_  
_ Who plows the raging main_

_I boldly stepped up to her_  
_ And put her in surprise_  
_ I know she did not know me_  
_ I being in disguise._

_I says, “Me charming creature,_  
_ My joy, my hearts delight,_  
_ How far have you to travel_  
_ This dark and dreary night?”_

Galladon sighed. “I could listen to you sing all day, sister.”

Brynna chuckled as she plucked away on the harp strings. Brynna had taken to music and singing as soon as she had been able to talk. She studied with maesters all throughout her childhood and adolescence, learning various instruments and learning to hone her voice. As a result, she was an absolutely beautiful singer, and her voice was noted as being clear like a bell. There were times that people listening to her were so entranced by her voice that they quickly became mesmerized and had to shake themselves out of a trance when she finished.

Galladon was apparently one of those people that afternoon. Brynna didn’t answer him, just merely continued on with the next phrase of her song.

_“I'm in search of a faithless young man._  
_ Jonny is his name._  
_ And along the Banks of Massey_  
_ I'm told be does remain.”_

_“This is the Banks of Massey_  
_ Fair maid where on you stand._  
_ But don't depend on Jonny_  
_ For he's a false young man.”_

_“Oh don't depend on Jonny_  
_ For he'll not meet you here._  
_ But tarry with me in yon green woods_  
_ No danger need you fear”_

_“Oh it's six long weeks or better_  
_ Since Jonny left the shore_  
_ He's crossing the wild ocean_  
_ Where the foam and the billows roar”_

_“He's crossing the wild ocean_  
_ For honour and for fame._  
_ But this I've heard, the ship was wrecked_  
_ Along the coast of Ghaen.”_

“Where is Ghaen?” Galladon asked.

Brynna chuckled, still playing. “In Essos, now hush and let me finish.”

_Oh it's when she heard this dreadful news_  
_ She flew into despair_  
_ By the wringing of her milk white hands_  
_ And the tearing of her hair._

_Saying “If Jonny he be drown-ed_  
_ No other man I'll take,_  
_ But through lonesome groves and valleys_  
_ I'll wander for his sake.”_

_Oh it's when he saw her loyalty_  
_ No longer could he stand_  
_ He flew into her arms saying_  
_ “Betsy, I'm the man.”_

_Saying “Betsy, I'm the young man_  
_ The cause of all your pain._  
_ But since we've met on Massey Banks_  
_ We'll never part again.”_

Tyrion found them then, smiling at the pair of them…golden and beautiful like most Lannisters. He then grew sad as he wondered, like he often did, if he would have been yet another beautiful Lannister himself had he not been born the way he had. He also wondered if he would have been his father’s favorite if circumstances had been different. Considering what Jaime and Cersei had been, he was all but convinced he would have indeed been the favorite child.

“Ah, sweet niece, your voice would make even the most heartless of men weep like babes,” Tyrion said, walking over to kiss Brynna’s hand.

“Hello, uncle,” Galladon said without opening his eyes.

“Gall,” Tyrion said, sitting on the other side of Brynna. Once he was seated he leaned to look around her, taking in the sight of his lanky yet muscular nephew splayed out on the bench. “Gods be good, boy, must you lay all spread out like that? You’ll send all the ladies into a frenzy.”

“Isn’t that the point, uncle?” Galladon snarked, still not moving from his resting place against his sister’s back. Tyrion’s eyes met Brynna’s and she merely smiled and shrugged. She began softly plucking out a tune on her harp again. The breeze picked up and kicked up the scents of the various flowers around them. Tyrion closed his eyes and took in a deep sniff.

“To what do we owe the pleasure, uncle?” Brynna said, her sweet voice light and welcoming, her fingers still coaxing a lovely tune from her harp.

“Well, you have by now heard of the plans to hold celebrations for our King’s twentieth year of his reign.”

“Yes.”

“I would be honored and most grateful if you would take charge of the music for the grand feast,” Tyrion said to his niece.

“Oh, how perfectly lovely, uncle, I would be happy to,” she smiled at him. Tyrion heaved a huge sigh of relief.

“Finally! Someone happy and willing to help!”

“Maybe I can get Ser Podrick to sing with me,” Brynna giggled.

“Wonderful!” Tyrion clapped and rubbed his hands together. “Oh and _you,_ Ser Golden Gods’ Gift to Women, I’m sure your father will want your help with tourney preparations.”

Galladon opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Tyrion as best he could.

“Ser _what?”_

“You heard me perfectly well, you lout.”

Galladon snorted and moved his head back against Brynna’s.

“You’re getting a bit heavy, Gall,” she complained.

“Tough, sweet sister, I’m much too comfortable.”

Brynna rolled her eyes and kept plunking away on her harp.

Tyrion blinked and flinched at Galladon’s use of “sweet sister”. He was also very suddenly aware of how comfortable his nephew looked draped across said sister. His stomach suddenly dropped as he found himself begging that history was not about to repeat itself.

_No, not Brynna at least. She’s perfect and sweet, not an ounce like Cersei…not hateful and cruel. And while Galladon is like Jaime, there’s no way he…_

He would make a note to watch them more carefully.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Selwyn!” Davos called up to the crow’s nest from the deck of his ship. Selwyn stuck his head over the edge of the roost.

“Aye, captain?” He grinned wide. Davos shook his head.

“Come on down! We’re casting off soon!”

Selwyn waved his acknowledgement and reached for the rope that was nearby. Gripping it in both hands, he climbed up onto the edge of the crow’s nest.

“No! Not like…..that…” Davos had barely gotten the sentence out before Selwyn had jumped over the side and slid down the rope, swinging himself to land on the deck in front of Davos. He let go of the rope and gave Davos a wide grin.

“Sorry, couldn’t hear you,” Selwyn grinned wider.

“Your parents will gut me and ask questions later if anything happens to you on my watch,” Davos growled, pointing a finger at the young Lannister. “We’re both lucky they even let you come along.”

Selwyn sighed. “We’re only going to Gulltown, it’s not like we’re sailing to the other side of Essos.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Davos said. “You’re on my ship, you’re in my charge.”

Selwyn became serious. “You’re right, Ser, my apologies,” he looked around the deck. “What can I do now?”

“Just observe and learn, son,” Davos said, and began calling out orders to his crew to begin the process of casting off.

Selwyn smiled and broke out into song, belting it out at the top of his lungs.

_Off to Gulltown to see the fair maid,_  
_ heigh-ho, heigh-ho._  
_ I'll steal a sweet kiss with the point of my blade,_  
_ heigh-ho, heigh-ho._  
_ I'll make her my love and we'll rest in the shade,_  
_ heigh-ho, heigh-ho._

Some of the other crew members joined in with him.

“Oh hush up, you idiots,” Davos said but then laughed and walked off to finish odds and ends. Selwyn trailed after him.

“How long will it take to get there?”

“About two days and a bit,” Davos answered. “Then we’ll probably stay for a day before heading back. We need to unload all the supplies we’re bringing plus we need to bring a few things back. For example, a few bolts of fabric for your family’s clothing for the King’s celebrations.”

“Oh gods,” Selwyn rolled his eyes. “We’re all going to match, aren’t we?”

Davos suppressed a laugh. “I don’t know, boy, but I do know that Gulltown has the finest seamstresses and fabrics this side of Westeros, so whatever is being planned, you can be sure it will be the best gold can buy.”

Selwyn stood next to Davos at the railing, watching as the ship started to move away from the dock. He looked up and let the breeze blow through his hair, closing his eyes and taking a deep sniff of the salt air, much like his father did years ago when he had sailed to Essos on this very same ship.

“Ah, Ser Davos, I was born for this,” he said.

Davos made a gruff noise. “You say that now.”

“No, I mean it,” Selwyn said, smiling. “I’ve always loved the sea. The yearly trips to Tarth, from the time I was a boy---“

“You still are a boy.”

“Fine, when I was a _younger_ boy,” Selwyn replied, giving Davos a sidelong glance. “I was always drawn to the water, and I’d always beg Papa and Grandpapa to take me down to the Tarth docks with to look at the ships. I always promised myself someday I would sail one of them.”

“You’re named after a good man you know,” Davos suddenly said. “I know your grandfather quite well now, you won’t find a kinder, more welcoming man in all of Westeros.”

Selwyn nodded. “He is that, yes.”

“It’s my intention to relocate to Tarth once I retire from service to the crown,” Davos said.

“Oh yeah? You could pick much worse places,” Selwyn laughed. “Plus that means we’ll still get to see each other, and Grandpapa will have another friend he can talk to for hours on end.”

“Believe me, boy, I’m quite looking forward to a quiet life. I’ve seen way too much in my lifetime for one man,” Davos leaned on the railing and looked out over the water, King’s Landing becoming smaller as they sailed out into Blackwater Bay.

“You’ll have to tell me all about it sometime,” Selwyn said quietly. “I know about the Long Night from Mumma and Papa, but I’ll bet you have some stories that would turn them ashen,” he laughed again.

“Boy, you have no idea.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Bran, are you quite alright?” Joanna asked him as they sat in the Godswood together. “You seemed a bit upset the other day, in the small council chamber.”

He reached for her hand. “Yes, I’m alright for the time being,” he said. “I wish I could explain it to you.”

“Try,” Joanna said gently, making sure to not sit too close to Bran for fear the other Kingsguard that were stationed at the Godswood entrance might see. Sers Ashtin and Cayle had accompanied them today. The other four making up the seven in total were back at the Red Keep. Brienne had actually wanted to round out the number to eight, but so far no one had caught her eye to fill the position.

Bran sighed. “I literally have the entire history of Westeros inside my head, plus flashes of its future. I need to find some way of…organizing it…so that it doesn’t feel just…chaotic…and also like I’m buried under all of it somewhere.”

Bran’s tone was back to being unemotional today. It saddened Joanna, but at least he was talking and trying to work out his thoughts.

“Well, can you remember anything from…before you became the Three-Eyed Raven? Things you enjoyed doing as a boy?”

“I remember everything,” he said coldly, slightly scaring Joanna.

“All…alright,” Joanna stuttered. “What is one of your favorite memories from childhood?”

Bran was quiet for a few moments as he thought. “Old Nan’s stories,” he said. “The oldest servant at Winterfell, she had a wonderful way of telling stories and bringing them to life. I always wanted to be one of the knights or heroes in her tales.” He was looking off far away again.

“Great, that’s a good start, my darling, do you remember any of them that you could tell me?”

Bran actually seemed to perk up at that, and scrunched up his face in thought. Finally he came up with one.

_“The Last Hero_ is a good one,” he said. He smiled to himself and began to tell Joanna the story. “Thousands and thousands of years ago, a winter fell that was cold and hard and endless beyond all memory of man. There came a night that lasted a generation, and kings shivered and died in their castles as much as the smallfolk in their houses.”

Joanna made a face. “Ugh, sounds positively dreadful.”

Bran chuckled softly. “It does, doesn’t it?” He continued on. “During that winter, the Others came for the first time. They were cold things, dead things that hated iron and fire and the sun and all warm-blooded creatures. They swept over holdfasts and cities and kingdoms, felling heroes and armies by the thousands. They rode pale, dead horses and their army consisted of dead men. Swords could not stop them. Yet still the Children of the Forest kept watch through their weirwood trees, and the Last Hero set out to find them, to see if their magic could help.”

“This was one of the stories you _liked?”_ Joanna teased him.

Bran actually smiled. “Old Nan had a way of making them exciting. So the Last Hero set out into the dead lands with a dozen companions. They searched for years for the Children of the Forest. Over time his companions died, and even his horse and dog…”

“Oh for goodness sake, Bran, this isn’t happy at all,” Joanna laughed. Bran chuckled along with her.

“No, I suppose it isn’t. Come to think of it, it doesn’t get much better either.”

Joanna shook her head and smiled. “But it got you smiling and remembering.”

Bran nodded and squeezed her hand. “So it did.”

Joanna took a deep breath. She had something she had been longing to ask him ever since they had grown close. She wasn’t sure how he would receive it, but she was determined to be strong.

“Bran,” she reached out for his other hand, drawing them both between hers. “Forgive me if this seems inappropriate or unfeeling, I swear to you it’s not meant to be…but…what happened to you?”

Bran looked up from their entwined hands to fix her with a dark-eyed stare. For a few minutes he said nothing, only stared at her. Finally Joanna spoke first.

“I…I’m sorry, that was unworthy of me to ask.”

Bran didn’t move, he simply answered her quietly.

“No, it’s fine, but I’m afraid that story isn’t only mine to tell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know me and my plagiarism fears LOL. The song Brynna is singing in the garden is called "Banks of Claudy" and the version I used is the one by Loreena McKennitt (who is one of my absolute favorite singers, and kind of who I based Brynna's singing on). Anyhoo...in order to make Brynna's version more "Westerosi", I changed a few of the lyrics that mention actual place names in OUR world and gave them ASOIAF place names instead. I also got rid of the line that said "in the month of May", since we don't know how they mark their months in Westeros. If you're interested in the original song, here is a link...
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wXFK3Gf_S-Q
> 
> Selwyn's little sea shanty "Off to Gulltown" is actually canon!
> 
> https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Off_to_Gulltown


	4. Tough Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joanna and Tyrion dance around a VERY delicate subject; Alysanne tries her hand at jousting.

Tyrion spread out the sketches in front of Joanna, detailing the designs for Bran’s new saddle. It was basically the same as he had designed for the King when he was a boy, only larger in scale. Joanna looked it over, noting the braces for his knees and hips that would hold him in place so that he wouldn’t fall.

“Oh, Uncle, this is brilliant,” she said, running her hand over the drawings. “I hope he goes along with this.”

“He seemed at peace about it as a boy,” Tyrion said.

“Yes, I was going to ask you how it came to pass that you designed him a saddle when he was young?”

_Oh fuck. How do I explain this?_

“Ah, well, I was actually at Winterfell for a time when he was a boy…” _oh well, I’m in it now, may as well…_ “King Robert had traveled there with his entourage, which included myself as a Lannister. He was there to bring Eddard Stark into his service as his Hand. We were there when Bran was maimed.”

Joanna’s eyes flew wide. “You…were _there?_ What happened to him, Uncle? I asked him and he wouldn’t tell me…he merely said the story wasn’t entirely his to tell…whatever that means.”

Tyrion’s face remained stoic and unreadable. “Maybe he’s not ready to talk about it,” he said quietly, his eyes still on his niece.

“Maybe,” Joanna said quietly, looking down at the drawings again.

“The details of what exactly happened are…unclear,” Tyrion said, choosing his words extremely carefully. “What I do know is that someone tried to have him assassinated and framed me for it.”

Joanna’s mouth fell open. _“You?_ Why? Is that why he was crippled?”

“No, that happened just before,” Tyrion took a deep breath. “He fell from a great height, from one of the towers at Winterfell. His mother said he liked to climb quite often.”

“Oh gods, how awful,” Joanna whispered, a terrified look in her green eyes. “No wonder he doesn’t like to talk about it. But why couldn’t he just say that? Why is it not entirely his story?”

Tyrion had his suspicions, of course, even though it was never actually confirmed to him. At least this wouldn’t be a total lie.

“I don’t know, his Grace is a man of…many mysteries.”

“And why would someone try to have him killed and blame you for it? That seems absurd.”

“Someone hated me, I suppose. That was a pretty common opinion back then,” Tyrion said. “And then we left Winterfell. I went to the Wall with Jon Snow, the rest of the family returned to King’s Landing with King Robert, Eddard, Sansa, and Arya. And then Theon Greyjoy took their home from them and Bran had to go into hiding with his younger brother.”

Joanna looked up in horror. “What?”

“Yes, once Eddark Stark, his Grace’s father, was beheaded here in King’s Landing thanks to my sweet sister and her monster of a son, Theon Greyjoy, who was a ward of the Starks, turned on them and sacked Winterfell. He even burned two young boys, claiming they were his Grace and his younger brother.”

“Gods, how horrid!” Joanna said, her face a mask of disgust and dismay. “Wait, did you say your sister and your nephew had Bran’s father executed? Aunt Cersei did that?”

Tyrion said nothing, he merely stared at Joanna and then nodded. He’d already said way too much.

“But…why?”

Tyrion shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “My nephew Joffrey was, as I said, a monster. He was wrong from birth. My sister spoiled him and he was never brought to heel. He was a cruel and unfit King. They thought Eddard Stark a traitor and had him executed. Honestly, I think Joffrey did it more for sport and to torture Sansa.”

Joanna couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This story just kept getting worse and worse.

“I won’t push him on it then, I’ll wait until he’s ready to talk about it,” Joanna said quietly. “That’s an awful lot to have happened to a young child,” her eyes started filling up with tears.

Tyrion reached over and took her hand. “Those were awful times, sweetling, our family wasn’t always on the right side of things unfortunately.”

“I can see that. Where was Papa when all of this was going on? Surely he wouldn’t have approved or been complacent?”

Tyrion swallowed and sat back. Again, this wouldn’t exactly be a lie. “He was there, doing his duty like he was sworn to, protecting the King. His vows kept him obedient.”

_In more ways than one._ That definitely wasn’t a lie.

“It’s not a time he likes remembering either,” Tyrion said.

Joanna merely nodded. She was in the Kingsguard. She was a knight. She understood that much.

“Speaking of vows,” Tyrion said. “I can’t help but notice you seem very…attached…to our King.”

Joanna looked at him, the blush in her cheeks giving her away. “Of course, Uncle, I’m sworn to protect him.”

“I think we both know that’s not what I mean, sweetling.”

Joanna stiffened in her chair, her hands flat on the table. She said nothing more.

“It’s alright,” Tyrion put his hand over hers again. “I won’t speak of it to anyone.”

“There’s nothing to speak of,” Joanna said, a hint of threat in her voice.

“Well, even if there were,” Tyrion said, and Joanna knew that he was right. “I still wouldn’t betray you. You have my word on that.”

Joanna nodded once and furrowed her brow in worry.

“Thank you, Uncle.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alysanne sat atop her horse in the tilting yard, learning how to balance a jousting lance. Brienne had been hesitant to let her try the sport as she was still only a mere slip of a girl at thirteen. Still, her riding instructor had seen great promise in her and along with Alysanne’s begging and cajoling, they had convinced Brienne to at least let the girl explore the basics.

This was Alysanne’s third lesson in the joust. The first time had been merely putting the armor on and then trying to sit up straight on her horse without tipping over. The second lesson had been learning how to maneuver said horse in said armor, and giving the horse commands to gallop up and down the bar in the center of the arena. Today was learning how to attempt to hold a lance steady and try running at a target dummy.

Brienne was sitting in the stands in the empty arena, watching as Alysanne leaned down to listen to Ser Cayle of the Kingsguard, an excellent jouster himself, who was showing her how to hold the lance and pointing at a target down near the other end of the bar.

Alysanne could barely see out of the helmet Ser Cayle had her in. He had made sure she had extra room in the armor just in case. He didn’t want her parents coming for his head.

Brienne watched as he gave Alysanne a few more instructions and then stepped away. Everything looked too big on her daughter. The armor, the lance, the horse…it was making Brienne very anxious, but she promised she would let her try. Alysanne was an excellent rider, but still her mother worried about her.

Alysanne let out a whistle and dug her heels into the stallion’s sides and he took off, running down the bar towards the other end of the arena. Brienne gripped the edges of the bench she was sitting on. Alysanne managed to stay up and surprisingly managed to nick the target with the lance before slowing her horse.

Brienne heard her daughter whoop with excitement and then wave to her. Brienne smiled and waved back.

“Well done, darling!”

Alysanne reached over to pet her horse’s neck and walked him back to the other end to try again. He was a beautiful animal, big and dark chestnut brown with huge hooves and a jet black mane and tail. Alysanne called him Lanno, which Arianne had informed her twin was the Dothraki word for “to run”, and they had been inseparable for three years. Unfortunately, as Alysanne had grown, so had Lanno, making her still look small on his back.

Alysanne ran the bar a few more times somewhat successfully and after giving Lanno a rest, decided to give it one more try before calling it a day. Kicking Lanno into a fierce run once more, Alysanne brought the lance down and aimed it at the target dummy but this time caught the edge of the target rather than the solid flat part.

The lance skittered and threw her off balance, causing her to fall from Lanno’s back and hit the ground hard, whereupon she lay on her back for a few moments before attempting to roll over and sit up. That proved to be rather difficult in the weight of the armor she was wearing. Lanno came back over and bent his head down to sniff and nudge her, and Alysanne reached up to stroke his nose.

“It’s alright, boy, it wasn’t your fault,” she said softly to him.

Brienne bolted from the stands and ran to her daughter. She reached Alysanne the same time Cayle did. He pulled her helmet off to find her grinning from ear to ear.

“That was great,” Alysanne laughed. Brienne gave her a scolding look.

“Darling, you scared me half to death,” Brienne reached up to stroke Lanno’s nose as he was now nuzzling her as well. “Good boy,” she said to him.

“I’m sorry Lord Commander, I shouldn’t have let her go again,” Cayle said, helping Alysanne to sit up.

“I’m fine,” Alysanne said. “I loved it!”

Brienne and Cayle began unfastening the heavy armor around Alysanne so that Cayle could return it to the armory behind the stands.

“Mumma it was so much fun! I can’t wait to do it again, maybe I’ll even be able to…” Alysanne suddenly stopped and hissed in a breath and then gasped once Cayle had begun to work on removing the armor from her left arm.

Cayle stopped immediately. “Are you alright?”

“Darling?” Brienne became concerned again.

“My arm,” Alysanne took in a few deep breaths. “Oh dear…it really hurts.”

“Alright let’s take it real slow,” Cayle said, gingerly unbuckling the elbow cops and gauntlets.

Brienne let out a small shriek and her hands flew to her mouth when the armor was removed.

Alysanne’s arm was bent at a rather unnatural angle, but upon further inspection there was no broken skin and no bones poking through. However, there was considerable bruising and swelling beginning.

“Well, look at that,” Alysanne said matter-of-factly.

“Lord Commander, my apologies, I’ll take full responsibility,” Cayle began rambling. Brienne put her hand on his shoulder once she had recovered herself.

“No, Cayle, you will do no such thing. Jousting injuries happen almost daily, this is no one’s fault, especially not yours or Lanno’s. It was an unlucky hit, nothing more.”

“Ser Jaime will want my head.”

“You let me worry about Ser Jaime,” Brienne smirked. “Part of my daily routine is to talk him down from one thing or another.”

They got Alysanne out of the rest of her armor and Brienne slowly got her daughter on her feet.

“Ser Cayle, might I impose upon you to bring Lanno back to the stables and brush him down for us? I’m going to take Alysanne directly to Grand Maester Samwell.”

“Absolutely commander,” he looked to Alysanne. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

She nodded. “Don’t worry Ser Cayle, I’ll be back at once this is healed up,” she laid her hand on his arm. “And thank you.”

Cayle smiled and nodded and then looked up at Brienne. “I’ll take care of everything here,” he said, taking Lanno’s reins in his hand. He signaled for one of the yard attendants to come and put the armor away.

Alysanne put her face against Lanno’s. “It’s alright boy, everything will be fine.”

“Come on, young lady, let’s get you to Sam,” Brienne said.

They began walking towards the exit to the arena, Brienne making sure Alysanne held her arm as still as possible.

“Your father is going to be absolutely beside himself,” Brienne muttered.

Alysanne gasped and looked up at her mother. “You don’t think he’s going to make me quit do you? I’m not giving it up.”

“I know, darling, I know. Leave him to me, you don’t have to quit. I know better than anyone that no matter how many times you get knocked down you get back up and try harder.””

“Oh thank you, Mumma,” Alysanne sighed and then broke out into a grin. “Because that was _great_.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jaime burst into Samwell’s apothecary like a charging horse, followed swiftly by Arianne. Brienne, Alysanne, and Sam all looked up at them.

“Ser Jaime,” Sam said. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Jaime ignored Sam and rushed to Alysanne and began stroking her hair and her face.

“Sweetling, are you alright? What happened?”

Brienne noted the panicked look in his eyes and immediately intervened. She reached out to pull him to her and he went into her arms as he always did when he needed soothing. Brienne began stroking his shoulders and running her fingers through his hair.

“Alysanne will be fine, she just broke her arm. Sam has reset it and now she just has to let it heal.”

Jamie wrapped his arms around Brienne but looked over to where Sam was wrapping Alysanne’s left forearm in a splint and linen cloths.

Arianne hopped up on the wooden table next to her twin. “This is so brilliant, a real war wound,” she giggled. Alysanne giggled back conspiratorially.

“I know, isn’t it great? It was amazing to be out there.”

“Hey, hey, no, no, no,” Jaime interrupted, chastising his twins. “This is not great, or brilliant, or amazing, or anything else.”

“Oh, Papa, please don’t fret, I’ll be fine, honestly,” Alysanne said, looking up at him with Brienne’s eyes.

That fact alone softened him immediately. He sighed and leaned into Brienne.

“She really was great out there, love,” Brienne said, smiling at Alysanne.

“Thank you, Mumma,” Alysanne said, reaching out to take Jaime’s stump in her right hand. “Seriously, Papa, I’m fine. I’m sure you broke bones and skinned your knees when you were young.”

_My childhood was nothing even close to normal,_ Jaime thought bitterly to himself.

He nodded though, he had had his fair share of bumps and bruises throughout his life, both physical and otherwise. He reached out to stroke Alysanne’s hair.

“And Mumma said I don’t have to quit,” she added.

Jaime looked up at Brienne and scowled, but knew deep down she was right. He sighed.

“Well, if there’s anyone in this world who is a fighter, it’s your mother,” he said and placed a soft kiss on Brienne’s cheek. Alysanne and Arianne smiled identical grins up at their parents.

Sam finished wrapping Alysanne’s arm and sat back after he tied off the linen bandage and then put her arm in a sling.

“Right, now this will take at least a month to heal, and I’m sorry, sweetling, but you won’t be able to ride until it’s healed,” he said sympathetically. Alysanne nodded in understanding, but her face fell.

“However,” Sam continued. “I see no reason why you can’t still at least attend to your horse and give him his daily exercise using a lead in your good hand for now.”

That brightened her spirits and she looked up at Sam and smiled. “Oh thank you Maester Samwell.”

Brienne and Jaime smiled. Arianne hopped down off the table and held out her hands to help her sister climb down.

“I’ve given her an extremely small dose of milk of the poppy for the pain,” Sam said. “And I do mean extremely small…she wouldn’t be upright otherwise. You can give her a bit more to help her sleep through the night until the pain lessens over the weeks. There’s also a salve you need to rub on her arm twice a day to help with the swelling and muscle relaxation.” He handed Brienne a sealed jar plus a vial of the milk of the poppy.

“Thank you, Sam,” Brienne embraced him.

“I’ll come check on her later.”

They all filed out of Sam’s space and made their way through the halls of the Red Keep.

“Hey, let’s go show your arm to Galladon, I’ll bet he’ll think it’s great too,” Arianne said. Alysanne turned to where Jaime and Brienne were walking behind them.

“Mumma, Papa, can we go to the training yard and watch Galladon and Arthur?”

“Yes, we can go there,” Jaime said. “Hey! No running with that arm freshly set!”

The girls slowed down to a walk again.

“Well, it’s official,” Jaime said, turning to look at Brienne. “We broke one of our children.” He took her hand and looped it through his arm as they walked. Brienne laughed.

“Love, we didn’t break our child, it was an unfortunate training accident. They happen all the time, or have you forgotten?” She teased him. “Thank you for handling it so well though, you’ll upset Alysanne otherwise and she’ll think it was her fault.”

Jaime fawned dramatically, basking in her compliment. Brienne reached down to pinch him on the rear end. He yelped and then looked around.

“Why, Brienne Lannister, getting bold are we? Anyone could see us.” He said, reaching around for her backside as well. Brienne squealed and giggled in his arms as Jaime began attacking her neck with bearded kisses.

After a few minutes they both turned their heads to see their daughters standing there looking at them. Alysanne rolled her eyes while Arianne simply shook her head and pulled open the door to the training yard. The girls disappeared outside, leaving Jaime and Brienne to themselves. Jaime turned his attentions back to his wife and kissed her slow and softly.

Brienne’s arms went around his neck, her mouth opening against his. Jaime groaned quietly and pulled her closer. Brienne started giggling again. Jaime pulled back and smiled.

“You want to go to our chambers?” He asked mischievously, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I think we should keep an eye on Alysanne for a little bit, but I’ll say this…you handled this crisis so well that I’ll reward you later, how does that sound?”

“I like rewards,” Jaime said, once again burying his face in her neck.

“Yes, love, I know you do,” Brienne chuckled. “Keep being a good boy and you’ll keep getting them.”

“I’m always good,” he mumbled, taking her earlobe in his mouth.

Brienne certainly couldn’t argue with him on that one.


	5. Not Just Another Pretty Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into the inner workings of Galladon; Jaime and Podrick attempt to wrangle planning for a massive tourney.

Galladon knew how to kiss. He was actually quite good at it, and it was well known amongst the ladies at court. They constantly threw themselves at him, each vying for his attention in whatever form they could get. He watched them fight each other in the poisonously sweet ways that ladies went to war, with fake niceties and forced solidarity, when in reality they wanted to slit each other’s throats in their sleep.

They fawned over Selwyn as well, but for some reason Galladon was whispered about as the bigger prize. Like their Uncle Tyrion, Selwyn preferred frequent trips to the brothels instead, finding whores more lively and amusing, and best of all, no commitments. Galladon had different thoughts on the idea. He wanted something…more.

The coveted golden Lannister brothers. Galladon feared for shy, quiet, little Arthur when he came of age as well.

Today it was Lady Lannia Fossoway of Cider Hall that had cornered Galladon. She was the eldest daughter of a decent-sized house of the Reach, and her father was one of Bronn’s advisors. Galladon had taken her to the secret place he took all his ladies…a small, unused, overgrown courtyard that sat outside a part of the Keep that had no windows. There was simply a door that led in and out and lots of thick, overhanging vines and branches that only let slivers of sunshine through on a good day.

Galladon sat on a small stone bench near one of the walls that surrounded the small enclosure. Lannia was straddling his lap, kissing him hungrily and attempting to win his heart. He sat there and let her try to work her wiles on him, letting Lannia do most of the pursuing. Galladon never gave more than the ladies gave him, always holding the sacred parts of himself locked tightly away. Part of the amusement he got from these trysts was watching how badly they wanted him, but in reality would never have him.

His cock responded, of course, but as Lannia kept trying to slip her hands down to his pants, Galladon kept brushing her hands away, teasing her and smiling against her lips. He laughed inwardly at her growing frustration.

“I would not dishonor you, my lady,” he said lazily.

“Oh, fuck my honor,” Lannia said breathlessly, kissing him again and writhing in his lap. “I promise I won’t tell anyone, please Galladon, _please.”_

_Liar. The minute I sink my cock into one of you harpies, you’ll run to rub it in the unlucky ones’ faces as soon as you could get your clothes back on. I’m all but certain you all have a wager going on who will rob me of my virginity, the same way those dishonorable knights did to Mumma._

He played coy again and took both of her wrists in his hands and brought them back up to his chest.

“I’m sorry, my lady, but I simply wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

_Besides, I know you really just want me to put a bastard in you so I’ll be forced to marry you and give you and the child the Lannister name._

Galladon couldn’t imagine spending thirty or forty years married to any of the ladies at court. It would be dull as shit and he know it would drive him mad.

He had a deep empathy for the ladies who were shy and were merely cattle to be sold off by their fathers to the highest bidder. While Galladon knew deep down that his parents would never do that to him, he still felt like a prized stallion at times when he heard whispers of the ladies fighting for position as to who would get to marry him and bear his children in order to bring glory to their house. The entire practice sickened him.

_Still, I am a man of six and ten, and I have needs._ He mused.

So, he still let them kiss and coo and paw at him. He didn’t even need to work for it, which was probably why he was mostly bored with the entire idea.

_They all kiss the same way. Boring. Is this really what they sing about in ballads?_

Deep down Galladon knew the more he denied them, the more they wanted him. It was a game to him as well. He decided to make it worse.

“Why don’t we talk for a while?” he purred seductively. “Get to know one another a bit more.”

Lannia sat back a bit and looked at Galladon with a puzzled expression. “Talk? Galladon we don’t have much time, why waste it talking?”

“Aren’t there things you wish to know about me?” Galladon said, giving her a playful pout.

Lannia leaned forward and kissed him again. “I already know everything I need to know,” she said, moving her lips to his cheek. “You’re Galladon Lannister,” another kiss. “You’re sinfully handsome, so much so that you put the most beautiful of maidens to shame,” another kiss on his other cheek now. “You’re the most talented young swordfighter in Westeros, and the heir to House Lannister,” she kissed him on the lips again. “You’re the newest golden Lannister lion. You’re perfect, what else is there to know?” Her hands dropped to the laces of his breeches again.

_Oh, I don’t know, how about the fact that I don’t like peas? That I love to listen to my sister sing? That I like to watch the stars and I wish I didn’t drop my right arm so much when I fight? That I long for a marriage like my parents have…one built on love and respect, and not to be sold off like a stallion for studding? That I have absolutely no intentions of fucking you? Ever? How about those, my sweet?_

A cloud suddenly entered his mind. _Is that really all I am? My family name and a pretty face?_ He thought sadly.

“Well, before we allow ourselves to be swept away, I must take my leave, both for your honor and my own,” he said, again brushing Lannia’s hands aside, ending his encounter the way he always did. Lannia sighed, her face turning red with anger.

“Galladon Lannister, you are infuriating. You kiss with the passion of a thousand suns yet you hold back from anything further.”

He tilted his head and looked up at her with those Tarth sapphire eyes, complete with absurdly long blonde lashes, and gave her a pained look.

“A thousand apologies, my lady, but I simply will not compromise your honor,” he said in a pouty voice that softened her immediately. He wriggled out from under her and stood up, taking her hand and bowing to kiss it. “Until we meet again, my lady, I am off to the training yard.”

Lannia smiled up at him, already placated. It was just too easy.

“Farewell, Galladon, you will be seeing me again, I promise you that.”

_Yes, I’m sure._ He inwardly rolled his eyes. Galladon blew her a kiss and disappeared back inside the Keep. Making his way through the corridors, he headed for the training yard to work off the energy he refused to give in to whenever he left one of his admirers.

“You have a twig in your hair,” a voice from behind him said, startling him. Galladon spun around to see Joanna standing there, arms crossed with a smirk on her face. “Who was it today, brother?”

Galladon pulled the twig from his hair and tossed it aside, scowling at his sister.

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere watching the King shit or something?”

Joanna’s face became angry and she stalked towards her brother. Grabbing him by the front of his leather coat, she pushed him back against the stone wall.

“That is our King you’re speaking of, you should have more respect,” she got in his face.

Galladon’s eyebrows went up and a smile slowly spread across his lips. This was certainly an interesting reaction from her.

“Hit a nerve, have I, sister?”

Suddenly realizing her feelings for Bran had poked her temper, Joanna stood back from Galladon and looked away, her cheeks flushed like their mother’s always did.

“I’m just saying, you should be careful what you say,” Joanna said quietly.

“Oh no, no,” Galladon drawled, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “There’s more to that reaction than you’re letting on.”

Joanna turned to him with a mix of anger and embarrassment in her green eyes. “I said what I said, you should use respect when you speak of His Grace.”

Galladon ignored her protests. “Perhaps I should start following you around the way you seem to do to me.”

Joanna looked away again. “Someday when you’re a knight you’ll understand.”

“I understand a lot more than you think, sister.” Galladon was suddenly serious, his expression somewhat sad. Changing the subject, he walked towards Joanna and threw his arm around her shoulders. “Come on, come take your frustrations out on me via sparring,” he said, steering her towards the direction of the training yard. “I’ll let you win.”

“Oh you’ll _let_ me win? In that case I think I’ll _let_ you fall down…repeatedly.”

“My, my, sister, such angry words,” Galladon said. “You know, you really should show me more respect, or else I’ll make you watch me shit as well.”

Joanna opened her mouth to reprimand him, but before she could, Galladon let out a _whoop_ and took off running. Joanna took right off after him.

“Galladon! You’ll be lucky if you can shit at all when I’m through with you!”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jaime’s head dropped down onto the table in the small council chamber, his forehead hitting the wood with a soft _thud_. He sighed and when he spoke, his voice was muffled.

“We’re going to have to send ravens to every damn house and castle in Westeros, aren’t we?”

“I would just send ravens to all of the major seats of each region and let them sort out who they invite,” Podrick said, sitting across from Jaime, looking at the map spread between them.

Jaime didn’t bring his head up, but he lifted his hand and pointed at Pod. “I like the way you think, Pod, that will be much easier.”

They had been going over the plans for the grand tournament to be held for Bran’s celebrations. They decided there would be a joust as well as a melee tourney that would be handled in rounds, dwindling down the combatants until there was a winner. While Jaime had participated in many such tourneys over his lifetime, he found organizing them was an entirely different matter.

“I think the best thing to do is to see who will actually participate on the day,” Podrick offered. “Then just do a random draw from there. In all reality we won’t know how many people are actually even attending until the thing actually starts.”

Jaime finally lifted his head from the table. “I think you’re right, Pod, we can take care of the physical aspects such as setting up the arena, the banners, all of that…” he waved his hand around, “…stuff, but yes, the organizing of the lists will have to wait until that morning once everyone has registered.”

Jaime sighed and leaned his chin on his hand. “Can we add killing Tyrion to the festivities?”

Podrick scowled at him.

“No, I suppose we can’t,” Jaime muttered. “Well, I’m going to volunteer Galladon to help with all of this.”

“Won’t he want to participate?” Podrick said.

“He can still participate, but he can also help with the setup. If I have to suffer so does he.”

“How long has he been squiring for Ser Chrestan now?”

Jaime thought for a moment. “Six years. He should be ready soon. Alysanne is three years in with Ser Cayle as well.”

“Sounds about right,” Podrick mused. “Joanna squired for me for seven years before I knighted her, so Gall is close.” He sat back in his chair and smiled. “Cayle really is perfect for Alysanne, he’s one of the best riders I've ever seen, and he’s very patient and gentle with her.”

Jaime nodded. “Kindred souls, those two. She really lucked out with him, she adores him.” He flipped through a few of the scrolls. “I know I’m biased because I’m his father, but Galladon is well past his time I think.”

Podrick shrugged. “I trust Chrestan to know when he’s ready.”

“Oh, so do I,” Jaime added. “I’m just being an over-indulgent father, that’s all. How is Garrad doing with Ser Ashtin? I’m glad Ashtin decided to take on both your boy and Arthur. Those two are inseparable.”

“He’s happy. He’s not quite as naturally gifted as Arthur, but he doesn’t care as long as they’re together,” Podrick smiled.

The door to the council chambers opened and Brienne walked in, followed by Alysanne, her arm still in a splint and sling. Two weeks had passed since her accident and she was healing right on schedule. Jaime looked over and opened his arms, making grasping motions with the fingers on his left hand.

“Brienne, my love, come to me,” he whined. Brienne drew her brows together and snickered, looking to Podrick.

“His brain is addled with all of this responsibility,” Podrick said sarcastically.

“Oh, you poor, poor, man,” Brienne said as if to a child, walking to him. Jaime wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face against her stomach. Brienne shook her head and began running her fingers through his hair. “What’s the problem, love?” She fought to hold back her laughter.

Alysanne took a seat next to Podrick and began looking over the scrolls and map of the tourney arena.

“My head hurts,” Jaime said, his voice muffled against her.

“Ser Pouty over there is having a difficult time wrapping his head around organizing the tourney,” Podrick said.

Jaime made a rude gesture at Pod without removing his face from Brienne’s midsection.

Brienne leaned over to look at the parchments spread out on the table. She drew in a gasp when she saw some of Jaime’s scribblings in the margins.

“Jaime Lannister, did you really put ‘kill Tyrion’ on the list of things to be done?”

“No,” his muffled voice sounded pathetic.

_“Jaime…”_

“Maybe.”

“Papa, I can do this for you,” Alysanne said, spinning the map of the arena to face her.

Jaime turned his head so that one of his eyes was visible, but still held onto his wife.

“You can?”

Alysanne nodded. “Ser Cayle has been teaching me how tourneys and jousting lists work. I can do this for you. It’s simple, as competitors register, you simply pair them off in the order of which they sign in, it makes it much less complicated and you’re not sitting there for hours trying to make matches.” She sat back and shrugged as if it were nothing.

Jaime brightened up and pointed at his daughter. “Alysanne, sweetling, you’re hired. Can you handle this on the actual day?”

“Oh yes, Papa, without a doubt, I’ll handle the registration and the match ups for each round if you like,” she gestured at her wounded arm. “I won’t be able to do much else and I did want to participate somehow.”

“Jaime, you are not putting all of this responsibility on our three and ten year old daughter.”

“It’s alright, Mumma, I don’t mind, and Ser Cayle is a very good teacher, he’s already shown me so much when it comes to running a tourney.”

“See, he’s taught her so much,” Jaime pleaded with Brienne, looking up at her and smiling, once again tightening his hold around her hips.

Brienne scowled down at him and then looked over at Podrick, who raised his hands in a defensive gesture. Finally she turned to Alysanne.

“Are you absolutely certain, darling? That’s a huge responsibility, and we only have a month to prepare.”

“Yes Mumma, I’m sure. It will be so exciting.” She grinned. “Arianne can help me with keeping all of the houses and sigils straight. Between the two of us it will be a great tourney, I promise.”

“See, love, she and Arianne…” Jaime began.

“Hush up, you.”

Jaime pressed his face into Brienne’s belly once again, attempting to stifle his grin.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sparring hadn’t helped Galladon’s mood. He and Joanna had taken out their agitated energy on each other, leaving each other with what were sure to be colorful bruises by tomorrow. But still, Galladon was still unsettled, and he knew there was only one person who could calm him.

_Where the hell is she?_

He had been storming around the Keep looking for Brynna, finding her at last in the room she had taken over and used as her music sanctuary. She was hunched over some parchment, scratching out notes of music with a quill, her small harp on the bench beside her.

She had left the door open to let in the late afternoon breeze. Galladon had walked by so quickly that he had to actually stop and come back when he realized he had seen her.

“You’re impossible to find, you know that?” Galladon groused, walking into the room with a sour look on his face.

“Hello to you too, brother,” Brynna huffed and smirked.

Galladon grabbed a chair from against the wall and loudly dragged it to the table and slumped into it. Looking around the room he noted that Brynna had built up quite the collection over the years. There were all manner of instruments littering the room…some sort of large keyed monstrosity against the opposite wall, a few different sized harps, multiple hand drums, bells, tiny cymbals, flutes, mandolins, and other things he couldn’t name if he tried.

He eventually brought his attention back to his sister to find her staring at him with an eyebrow raised.

“What?”

“Well I can see you’re in a pleasant mood,” Brynna teased him. She reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “What is it today?”

“Women,” he muttered.

“Well, that’s rather a broad subject, care to narrow it down?”

Galladon sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Brynn, am I just a pretty face?”

Brynna drew her brows together and chuckled at him. “Gall, what kind of question is that?”

“Just something somebody said, that’s all.”

“Well, you have a pretty face, if that’s what you’re asking, I suppose?”

He huffed and shifted in his chair again. “Possibly, but is that all I’m good for? That and our family name?”

“Sweetling, where is this coming from?” Brynna asked, suddenly concerned about his ramblings.

“I was…with someone today, and I told her that we should talk to get to know one another.”

Brynna raised an eyebrow at him. “_With_ someone?”

Galladon waved his hand. “Nothing serious, just kissing. Anyway, she told me that she already knew everything she needed to know about me, that I was handsome, a good fighter, and the heir to House Lannister. That was it, that was all she cared about.”

Brynna smiled sadly at her brother. “I’m sorry she did that to you.”

“It just made me wonder, that’s all. I mean, Joanna thinks I’m a joke, Selwyn only cares about sailing and whores, Alysanne and Arianne are all of three and ten. You’re the only one who understands.”

“Arthur loves you,” Brynna said.

Galladon leveled her with a flat stare. “Arthur’s one and ten, he loves everyone.”

“Sweetling, I’m sure Mumma and Papa would listen to you. I know for sure Mumma would never think you were just something for a lady to wear on her arm for prestige.”

Galladon sat forward, his mannerisms becoming agitated in the way that Jaime’s did whenever he was upset. “I know, but for some reason I can’t seem to talk to them about this…not yet anyway. I’m not like most men I guess…I have no interest in whoring, nor trysts, nor vain, empty-headed girls…I want what Mumma and Papa have, something with substance, but to tell them that would be weird.” He looked embarrassed to admit such things.

“Well, we all want something like Mumma and Papa have, it’s a rare love,” Brynna said. “And I’m sure they’d be flattered to hear you say that.”

“I also want to be taken seriously, I want someone to challenge me, someone I can actually stand to be around for more than an hour, much less thirty or forty years…and not just given to someone as a brooding stud because I’m a Lannister.”

“Mumma and Papa would _never_ do that to you, nor would they even entertain any offers such as that,” Brynna said. “They wouldn’t do that to any of us.”

“Thank the gods for small favors,” Galladon said quietly.

Brynna sat forward and took both of Galladon’s hands in hers. “Brother, I can’t control what the vapid ladies at court think of you, but I can tell you this…if that is all they can see, then they are not worthy of your time and _certainly_ not worth marrying,” she reached up to stroke his cheek. “And maybe that’s not such a bad thing, because you can see that all they’re after is a handsome Lannister man and everything that comes with that privilege.”

Galladon gave her a small smile and nodded. Brynna continued.

“One day, someone will come along who will absolutely knock you straight out of your boots, and you’ll know her when you see her. Someone who is your equal, or maybe even a little better,” she lifted the corner of her mouth in a smirk.

Galladon took one of Brynna’s hands and kissed it. “Thank you, sweet sister, you always know how to set things right.”

“I don’t know about that,” she laughed and then grew serious, her voice suddenly soft. “But I do know you, and I see past your pretty face to what’s inside…just make sure you save it for the one who is deserving of _all_ of you, because she will be the luckiest lady in all of Westeros.”

Galladon’s eyes actually grew misty at that. He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

“And what about you?” He said. “Whoever marries you will be a king beyond riches, even if not in name.”

“Such flattery, Gall,” Brynna made a face at him. She shrugged. “I suppose the same could be said for me…I’ll know him when I see him.”

A few stray tears ended up escaping Galladon’s eyes after all, and he wiped his face with his sleeve.

“So, enough of this melancholy bullshit, what are you working on?”

Brynna laughed. “Trying to come up with new songs for the grand feast, do you want to hear what I have so far?”

Galladon sat back in his chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing his ankles.

“Absolutely I do,” he said. “Your singing always cheers me.”

Brynna took up her harp and began to play him a rough version of what she had composed, while Galladon closed his eyes and felt his tension begin to slowly melt away.


	6. Patience and Galladon's Virtue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran and Joanna try to further deepen their connection. Selwyn takes Galladon to a brothel...and things don't exactly go as planned.

“You seem more quiet than usual, my love,” Joanna said.

Bran was looking down at the usual pile of dates and apples in his lap. He smiled softly, happy that the Godswood tradition that he had started with Brienne had now spilled over to Joanna as well. He looked up at her.

“Am I? I’m sorry, my darling,” Bran reached out to squeeze Joanna’s hand.

“I worry about you,” she said, slipping off the bench to tuck his blanket more snugly around his legs as the breeze picked up.

Bran smiled again. “I know you do, and believe me, I wish I could be everything you need me to be.”

Joanna looked up at him and scowled. “That’s not what I meant, you’re perfect just as you are, except for the fact that _you_ feel you aren’t who you want to be.”

Bran nodded and sighed. He reached down to cup Joanna’s cheek. “I want control over myself again, as much as I’m able to have, anyway. Not only for myself, but for you too.”

“Bran, don’t…”

“I mean it,” Bran cut her off. “ Being around you makes me feel…something I’ve never felt before. I’ve never been in love,” he chuckled. “Hell, I’ve never even touched a girl in my life, but you…you make me feel like I could be whole again. You give me hope, that I can be…I don’t know…normal…whatever that is. And I want…I want…see, I can’t even do this,” he chuckled nervously.

Joanna looked up at him with tears in her eyes. She smiled at him and put her hand over his where it rested on her cheek.

“It’s alright, my darling.”

“When your mother was expecting you…I can’t explain it…but you and I shared…some kind of bond.”

“I remember,” Joanna said. Bran’s eyebrows went up.

“You do?”

Joanna looked away, wrinkling her brow in thought. “At least, I think I do. It’s more like a lingering feeling. It’s difficult to grasp or explain.”

Bran nodded. “I know it must be.”

Joanna reclaimed her seat on the bench. “Your sisters should be here soon. I’m so excited to see them. I haven’t seen Arya and Gendry in years, and we never get to see Sansa since she’s all the way in the North.”

“Yes, it will be good to see them,” Bran said. “Being around them gives me a bit of that normalcy I mentioned.” He grew frustrated. “I know I can be that person again…I just don’t know how to get there.”

“There has to be somewhere you can get some answers,” Joanna offered. “You say your mentor died but there has to be more out there…maybe Jon could help? He’s North of the Wall…maybe he can look for answers for you.”

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Bran answered. “All I know is that there’s something picking at the edges of my consciousness…something right there, that is waiting.” He shook his head. “Something is coming soon…I just don’t know what.”

Joanna became concerned. “Something bad?”

“No…not bad…but it’s there.” Bran tried to calm her. “I know I have a future, I’ve seen it.”

“Oh, well that’s good then,” Joanna brightened. “What have you seen?”

Bran smiled at her. “I’ll tell you someday,” he said quietly.

Joanna cocked her head and scowled at him. “Now that’s not fair.”

Bran chuckled. “Maybe not, but it’s necessary. I made a vow to myself long ago that I would never interfere in others’ lives or decisions. That includes you.”

“I’ve never thought you were intrusive, my love,” Joanna said. “But if there is something important that pertains to me, I wish you’d share it.”

Bran merely smiled again. “Someday, my darling.”

He was determined to achieve the outcome he had seen. The difficult part was how to make it happen without directly manipulating it himself. But he could feel it…something or someone was coming for him. He could only hope it was to help.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  


Galladon and Selwyn entered their shared suite of rooms late after supper. Selwyn whistled to himself as he went about his business, washing his face and hands in the basin near their hearth. Galladon walked to the patio doors and flung them open, letting in the night air. After standing there for a few moments, he turned and slumped into a chair near the fireplace.

Selwyn turned to look at him. “You know, you’ve been in a mood for a few days now. What is the problem?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Galladon muttered.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Selwyn said, once again turning to the basin to wash his face.

Galladon sighed. “You just wouldn’t. You don’t have the same…problems that I do.”

Selwyn wiped his face with a towel and walked to sit in the chair opposite his brother. “Well now you have my interest.” He raised a smarmy eyebrow.

“I’m just frustrated.”

“Oh, is that all? I know how to fix that, brother,” Selwyn brightened.

“How, exactly?”

“Simple, you need a good fucking,” Selwyn smiled.

“Ah, no, Sel, really I’m…”

“Oh, come on. I can guarantee that whatever is bothering you will be lessened after you’ve been properly shagged.”

“It’s late,” Galladon said, trying to come up with any excuse to dissuade his brother from ruining his virtue.

“Gall, these places don’t close up at night,” Selwyn said, looking at him as if he were crazy. “We could sneak down the back stairway and out through the gardens. No one would even know we’re gone.”

“No, Sel.”

Selwyn got up and knelt down next to his brother’s chair. “Come on,” he pouted at his brother. “Please? I promise it will be fun.”

Galladon glared at him.

Selwyn sighed. “Alright, fine, how about just a drink or two then? We’ll go a tavern, have a few ales and come back.”

Galladon thought for a few moments and finally sighed in defeat. “Fine, I’ll go for a few drinks.”

Selwyn smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Excellent.”

They snuck out of the Keep and headed down Dragon’s Way. They walked for a bit until Selwyn directed Galladon down one of the narrow streets off of the main one.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Galladon asked.

“Yes, brother, have no fear,” Selwyn said. “One of the best in town.”

Galladon couldn’t see his brother’s smirk in the darkness. They finally stopped in front of a non-descript door with two lanterns burning out front.

“Seems a little quiet for a tavern,” Galladon mused.

“Oh, well, this is more of a…refined type of establishment,” Selwyn said. “Trust me.”

Selwyn opened the door and pushed Galladon through ahead of him. Galladon stopped in his tracks.

_It certainly doesn’t smell like a tavern._

The first thing he noticed was that there were quite a lot of half-dressed women, and a good majority of them turned to look at the Lannister brothers, their faces melting into lusty grins. There was a good smattering of plush furniture, most of it in varying shades of red. The air was heavily perfumed, making Galladon a bit light-headed.

“Well, well, well…” a dark-haired, dark-eyed girl approached them, eyeing them both up and down. “Selwyn, my sweet, it’s good to see you,” she ran her fingers up Selwyn’s arm and over his chest. Selwyn smirked down at her.

“Nilone,” Selwyn purred back at her, slipping an arm around her and nuzzling her cheek. Nilone looked at Galladon.

“And who is this handsome thing? My gods, it’s as if I’m seeing double,” she cooed, reaching out to run a finger over Galladon’s hand. He pulled back as if she had shocked him. “Is this your brother?” She let her eyes rove over him as she began walking around them both. “Such magnificent specimens you are.”

In truth, they were almost mirror images of each other. Selwyn was very much Jaime, and had an identical smile. His eyes were green but larger, like Brienne’s, whereas Galladon had Brienne’s eyes in both shape and color. They both had lush curls of dark blonde hair and their father’s jawline and cheekbones. They truly were spectacular to behold.

Galladon blushed and tried to cover different parts of his body with his hands. Another girl was suddenly at his side.

“Yes, Selwyn, where have you been hiding him?” The girl brushed Galladon’s backside with her hand, making him flinch and jump.

“Easy, Ilesha, he’s new,” Selwyn teased. Galladon shot him a murderous look.

“Oh is that so?” Ilesha said, her smile widening. “Fresh meat. Maybe I can take you both on.”

Three other whores approached them, all feasting on the brothers with their eyes.

“Hello, Sel,” one of them greeted the younger Lannister.

“Tana,” he answered, giving her a wink. “Ladies, this is my brother, Galladon,” he said, introducing him to the constantly growing group.

“Poor thing looks like a scared fawn,” another one of the whores said. Galladon blushed further and started to become agitated.

“I’m not a fawn, I’m a lion,” he said proudly. He held his head up and tried to look majestic.

“Oh girls, did you hear that? A lion…I’ll make you roar, you big, strong, beast.”

The redhead Selwyn had called Tana pressed her breasts into him, making him back up and straight into a blonde.

“Oh please, let me try,” the blonde said.

“Leave some for me, girls,” Tana quipped. “I’ll have you purring in no time, lover,” she whispered to him.

Another dark-haired whore began pawing Galladon’s hair. “Such a pretty mane you have, lion.”

Galladon did indeed look like a spooked forest animal. Selwyn merely stood there with a smirk on his face. Galladon reached out and grabbed his brother by the collar of his leather jerkin. “Can I talk to you, _please_,” he said through gritted teeth.

Galladon yanked Selwyn aside. “You tricked me!” he said in a loud whisper.

“What is the problem, brother?” Selwyn laughed. “Surely this isn’t really your first time?”

Galladon merely glared at him. Selwyn’s eyebrows flew up.

“Seriously? What about all those ladies you’re always sneaking off with?”

“We just kiss,” Galladon growled.

Selwyn barked a laugh. “And Lady Lannia? You can’t tell me she isn’t eager?”

“She’s eager yes, but no.”

“So you’ve never let her put her hands on your…”

“No…”

“Or her sweet mouth around your…”

“No! The only one who has ever touched my cock is me!” Galladon said louder than he had intended. It suddenly grew quiet around them and they both turned to look at the group of whores standing there with varying degrees of raised eyebrows, open mouths, and lascivious grins.

Selwyn chuckled nervously and clapped Galladon on the shoulder before walking back to pull Nilone into his embrace. “Well girls, like I said, be gentle with him.” He reached out and put his other arm around Ilesha. “Shall we, ladies?” He grinned.

Selwyn looked up at his brother and gave him a wink before turning to head upstairs with Nilone and Ilesha. “Brother.”

Galladon’s face fell into panic. “Selwyn,” he said through clenched teeth. “Sel!”

Selwyn waved back over his shoulder but didn’t say another word.

Left alone with the rest of the whores all grinning at him, Galladon laughed nervously. A couple of them walked towards him, making him back away towards one of the sofas. Eventually bumping into it, he fell onto the soft cushions. Two of the whores sat on either side of him, while two more perched on the low table in front of the sofa.

The girl whom Selwyn had addressed at Tana ran her hand up the inside of one of Galladon’s thighs. Galladon clamped his legs together and laughed nervously.

“Look, ah, you seem very nice but…” he began.

“I can be naughty if you prefer that,” Tana said, fixing him with a hooded gaze.

The other brunette had taken up residence on Galladon’s other side and began caressing his other thigh. “We can be anything you want, sweet.”

“Please, I don’t even know your names,” Galladon said, trying anything to get them to stop.

“What do you want them to be?” The blonde sitting in front of him said.

Galladon drew his brows together in confusion. “What they actually are?” He said.

The blonde stifled a laugh and looked at the brunette sitting next to her and then back at Galladon. “Well, in that case, I’m Anari.”

“Ah, well, it’s nice to make your acquaintance, Anari,” Galladon said, attempting to be a gentleman. He turned his attention to the brunette. “And you?”

She looked taken aback for a moment before responding. “Giya.”

Galladon smiled. “Nice to meet you as well, Giya.”

_Alright, now we’re getting somewhere._

He turned back to the redhead. “And my brother addressed you as Tana, I believe?”

She chuckled and gestured to the other brunette sitting on his opposite side. “Yes, and she’s Feresa. Come on, my beastly lion, why don’t we take this somewhere more private?” She began stroking his thigh again.

Galladon let out a growl of frustration and looked at the ceiling. “Why does everyone simply want me for my cock!”

The four girls froze and looked at each other with confused expressions. Finally Giya spoke up.

“Honey, why exactly are you here?”

“Because my stupid brother tricked me,” Galladon muttered sulkily.

“So, you’re not looking for a fuck then?” Tana said.

Galladon sighed. “No, all I wanted was a drink.”

Anari laughed at that. “Well, we have those too…what would you like?” Her voice had suddenly become normal, as if she were simply chatting with a friend.

Galladon shrugged. “Ale, I suppose?”

“I’ll be right back,” Anari said, and walked off to get his drink.

The other three girls immediately relaxed, and in doing so, made Galladon let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

Tana removed her hand from his thigh and sat back, getting comfortable. “Alright, love, so what’s your story then?”

Galladon brightened at that. “Really? You want to know about me?” He smiled as if she had just offered him all the riches in the world.

She shrugged. “Sure, why not? You’re obviously not here for much else.” She fingered a lock of his hair. “Terrible shame though…you’re much too beautiful to remain unspoiled.”

“Thank you…I think,” Galladon said, a small tentative smile formed on his lips. He looked around at each of them. "Well, I'm from a noble family, and it seems that the ladies at court are only interested in my face and my family name. No one wants to know anything else about me."

Tana snorted. "Oh, you poor baby, too pretty to be taken seriously."

Galladon scowled. "Yes, yes, very funny. It just gets to be rather annoying after a time. I mean, don't you want to be taken seriously too? Don't you have dreams?"

The girls looked at each other with confused expressions. Anari reappeared with Galladon’s drink, handing it to him and reclaiming her place on the edge of the low table. He thanked her, took a sip, and looked around at them. “Who wants to start?”

Tana quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, so we’re really doing this?”

Galladon smiled. “Why not?”

“Uh, okay, well…I’m from a small town in the southern Riverlands called Tumbler’s Falls.”

“Is it nice there?” Galladon asked.

Tana shook her head at him and smiled incredulously. “It’s alright…not much happening there. That’s why I came here. I really want to be a chef, but I make more money doing this right now.”

“A chef? Really? I think that’s great!” Galladon said, shifting his body to face her. “What are your specialties?”

“I…uh…” Tana stumbled over her words, clearly not used to having potential customers ask her what her dreams in life were. The other girls shrugged at her, not sure how to go about this. “Well, I’m very good at pastries and baked things…bread, muffins, scones, those sorts of things.”

“Oh that sounds wonderful,” Galladon said, smiling. His reaction encouraged her.

“I’m also quite good at pies. Meat pies, berry pies, any kind really.”

“That’s true, she is,” Feresa added. “Best in the neighborhood, that’s for sure.”

“Aw, thanks Feresa,” Tana said. Galladon turned to Feresa.

“And what about you? Where are you from?”

“Stonedance, out on Massey’s Hook.”

“She’s actually quite a talented seamstress,” Giya said. “She makes a lot of our clothes,” she gestured around the room.

Feresa blushed. “Thank you, Giya. I do what I can.”

Galladon looked around at the various girls around the room before turning back to Feresa. “Why not start your own sewing shop?”

“I have two children, a daughter and a son, and they need to be fed,” Feresa said. “Difficult to start your own merchant shop when you have little ones. Still, it is a dream of mine to maybe someday be so blessed.”

Galladon smiled sympathetically at her. Giya spoke up without even being prompted.

“I’m from across the Narrow Sea…Tyrosh. Famous for its pleasure houses.”

_That explains her exotic look._

“Why come here?”

Giya shrugged. “I got bored, wanted to see a bit of the world. They pay well here for girls like me…ones who aren’t from here.”

“I’m a healer,” Anari butted in. They all turned to look at her. “I look after everyone here, make sure they stay healthy and whatnot. My dream is to actually become the first female maester in Westeros history,” she smiled wistfully.

Galladon’s face lit up as he smiled at her. “I think that’s fantastic.”

“You do?” Anari said, confused.

“Of course, why not?”

“It’s just…not many men see it that way.”

“That’s silly,” Galladon said. “A healer is a very noble profession.”

“What is going on here?” the Madam of the establishment interrupted them, looking none too pleased. “Why aren’t you girls entertaining customers?”

Galladon stood up. “Begging your pardon, my lady, but I will pay for their time. We’re actually having a lovely conversation.”

The Madam flinched in surprise. _“My lady?”_ She laughed loudly. “You’re rather fancy, aren’t you?”

Galladon reached for his coin purse and came up with a handful of dragons which he gave to the madam. “If you require more, just let me know.” He was having the time of his life and wasn’t about to stop now. The Madam looked at him as if he were insane, but took the coins, nodded at the girls and went about her business.

They chatted away and before Galladon realized it, two hours had passed and Selwyn reappeared looking smug and sated. When he saw Galladon holding court with four whores, his mouth dropped open in shock.

“Oh, hello Sel!” Galladon said.

“Gall,” Selwyn said, still not sure what he was witnessing. “What’s, uh…what’s going on?”

“Oh, we’re having a very nice chat.”

“A chat. In a brothel.”

Galladon looked offended. “Yes, brother, a chat. It’s nice to get to know people every now and then.”

Selwyn shrugged. “Fair enough, but we should get going.”

Galladon sighed and looked around at his companions. Standing up, he bowed to each one of them in turn and kissed their hands. “My ladies, it has been a pleasure, maybe I will have my brother bring me here again sometime.” The girls all looked at each other in shock, but smiled at Galladon’s courtesy. Finally he straightened up and clapped Selwyn on the shoulder. “Right brother, shall we?”

The Lannister brothers departed, leaving the four girls gaping in shock.

“I do hope we see him again,” Giya said. “He’s amusing.”


	7. Late Night Musings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Sweet_Osmanthus who not only gifted me a wonderful one-shot about my inspiring her to put music in her story, but who also introduced me to composer Eric Whitacre, whose song "Sleep" I have Brynna sing to Arthur and Joanna in this chapter. 
> 
> And as usual...Jaime Lannister is an attention-starved brat LOL.
> 
> Here is the link to Sweet_Osmanthus story - https://archiveofourown.org/works/21144527

“His Grace has informed me that he wishes all of us to get sleep tonight, and he has asked for minimal duty tonight. He feels he is safe and wants us to be at our best over the next few days.”

Brienne and the rest of the Kingsguard were seated around the large table in her office, going over final logistics for the celebrations that would take place over the next several days. The city would be packed with people from all corners of Westeros, coming to pay respects to Bran, and the Kingsguard had to be on their toes at all times. The only time Brienne wouldn't be on duty was at the feast, where Bran had given her leave to revel with Jaime and the rest of their family. Joanna, however, would be armored and by Bran's side throughout that entire night...by her own request.

“I also apologize now that none of us are allowed to compete in the grand tourney tomorrow, but we are sworn to our duty, especially now with King's Landing being crammed full with visitors from all corners of Westeros. I know it’s going to be tough with there only being seven of us,” Brienne continued. “I still want to add one more member to the ranks, but I’m having a difficult time finding someone worthy.”

“There are quite a few good up and coming squires,” Ser Chrestan said. “Including your son,” he added with a wry smile.

Brienne smirked. “I don’t think Galladon wants anything to do with serving in the Kingsguard. At least not that he’s mentioned.”

“Nor to me,” Chrestan said, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table, lacing his fingers together. “But he is ready for the next step.” He smiled at Brienne.

Brienne looked up at Chrestan and took in a quiet gasp. Her eyes grew shiny. “Truly?”

Chrestan nodded. “Truly. He has expressed his wish to compete in the tourney tomorrow.”

“Do you think he’s ready against such heavy hitters?”

“Oh, absolutely, Gall can more than hold his own.”

Joanna smiled and reached over to squeeze Brienne’s hand. “He just may make something of himself yet,” she teased.

Brienne gave Joanna a motherly glare. “Don’t mock your brother.” She then looked up at Ser Cayle. “How are the joust preparations coming along?”

“Perfectly well, Commander,” Cayle answered. “Your daughters have everything under control and rather overly-organized, I must say,” he raised one corner of his mouth in a smirk.

Brienne shook her head and laughed. “Perfectionists, those two.” She sat back in her chair and heaved a sigh. “I think that about covers everything…oh! Yes, one more thing…for the feast, I want all of us to be able to represent our houses proudly just like everyone else. So therefore, no white cloaks at the feast…please feel free to wear your house cloaks and display your sigils.”

That got a round of smiles and quiet cheers. Brienne laughed.

“Right, dismissed. And please, let’s heed His Grace’s orders and get proper rest tonight.”

One by one they all said their goodnights and filed out.

“Do you need anything else, my lady?” Podrick asked before leaving.

“No, Pod, I think we’re all set, go get some sleep.”

“I’m sure my wife will be glad of it,” he chuckled before leaving. Joanna was the last one to leave. She hugged her mother.

“Do you want me to wait for you so we can walk together?” She asked.

“No, Bean, that’s alright, I just need to put a few more things in order and I’ll head to bed. I’m sure your father is climbing the walls with boredom by now,” she added sarcastically.

“Yes, well, you know how he gets when he feels he’s not getting proper attention,” Joanna snarked and then chuckled.

Brienne laughed. “Quite right.” She kissed her daughter on the forehead. “Are you alright? You seem a bit distracted lately.”

Joanna started a bit. “Yes, Mumma, I’m fine, why?” She suddenly became agitated. “Has His Grace said something about my duties? Is he displeased?”

“No, Bean, calm down, no one has said anything. In fact, no one is more diligent in their duties to His Grace than you…it’s just a mother’s intuition, that’s all.” She reached out to smooth a few stray hairs that had come free from Joanna’s braid. Joanna relaxed.

“Oh…no Mumma, I’m alright. Just a little tired maybe,” she smiled, hoping Brienne would drop the subject.

“Well, you better remedy that…off you go then,” she kissed Joanna one more time. “Goodnight, Bean, I love you.”

“Love you too, Mumma,” and Joanna was gone. Brienne, however, was not convinced her daughter was being entirely truthful.

Brienne sat down at the table once again to finish going over scrolls and writing up some last minute instructions.

“Hang in there, love, I’ll be there soon,” she said softly.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It could never be said that patience was one of Jaime Lannister’s strengths. He lay on his back in bed, fidgeting and staring at the ceiling. He hated going to bed without Brienne. Quite honestly, he hated doing much of anything without Brienne. He knew she had a late night meeting with the Kingsguard and she would be late coming back, but that didn’t make his waiting any easier.

He tossed and turned, making a mental list of things he was going to do to her once she was naked beside him. They had been married for twenty years and he still couldn’t sleep well without her next to him.

He gave it another ten minutes or so before huffing and throwing the covers back. Rolling out of bed, Jaime began looking for bits of clothing to put on, and after stumbling around in the dark unsuccessfully, he growled and grabbed his long tan leather coat off its peg on the wall. Wrapping it around his naked body, he slipped out of their room and headed for his wife’s office.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brienne heard the door to her office open and she didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

“I was just thinking about you,” she said as she scribbled on a parchment. Jaime closed and locked the door behind him.

“You know I can’t sleep well without you,” he said, padding softly over to her in his bare feet. Moving to sit on the table right next to where she was working, Jaime leaned back on his hands and swung his legs back and forth over the side. Brienne sighed and put her quill down, stopping to look up at her sulky husband.

She reached out to stroke his thigh. “I’m almost done and then we can go to bed.”

Jaime brightened up at that and flashed her a grin. Brienne then looked down at his feet, doing a double take.

“Jaime…where are your boots?”

“In our room where _you_ should be,” he said provokingly. As he continued to swing his legs, Brienne caught a flash of his bare thigh. Her eyebrows went up, as did her voice.

“Jaime…where are your _pants?_”

“Again…in our room, where you should be,” he grinned wider.

Brienne reached up to pull the collar of his coat open, exposing his bare chest. “Jamie Lannister, are you _naked_ under there?”

He sat up and then leaned forward until his lips were just brushing hers. “Why don’t you open my coat and find out?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Jaime, I swear, being married to you is like having an eighth child. You mean to tell me you walked all the way here from our room with no clothes on? What if someone had seen you?”

“I have my coat on!” He said defensively, as if that justified what he had done.

Brienne sighed and put her face in her hand. Jaime also sighed and then laid down all across Brienne’s papers and scrolls. He rolled onto his back and gave her his softest eyes.

“Jaime! Not on my…oh never mind.” Her eyes roved over his form stretched out lengthwise in front of her. “You really are a cat,” she muttered.

Inching closer to her he reached up and tangled his fingers in her hair, gently pulling her down so he could kiss her. Brienne smiled against his lips.

“You really couldn’t wait fifteen more minutes?”

“No,” Jaime kissed her again, this time reaching for her hand and placing it on the buckles of his coat. She obliged him and began to unfasten them. Reaching her other arm underneath his head, she inched forward in her chair and pulled him to her, kissing him deeper. Once she had his coat undone, she threw it open to find he was indeed naked, his cock already rising.

She began slowly rubbing his belly in the way she knew he loved, and sure enough he began arching his back and smiling. She nuzzled her nose against his.

“Whatever am I going to do with you? You’re absolutely shameless,” she chuckled.

“Yes, I’m a shameless whore for my wife,” he laughed. His voice then grew serious and soft. “You can start by making love to me,” he kissed her again.

Brienne smiled and slid her hand down to gently grip him. Jaime softly moaned into her mouth and his legs fell open, his hips gently thrusting up into her hand. Brienne nudged his chin up with her nose and began nipping at his neck. Jaime made small noises in his throat and writhed around under her touch.

Brienne softly giggled against his skin. “You’re so easy.”

“Only because you know everything that drives me crazy,” Jaime purred back at her. “Now get up here and fuck me properly,” he said, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as Brienne kissed him behind his ear.

“Gods, this poor table…if it could talk,” Brienne whispered, stroking him a little faster.

Jaime gripped the edge of the table and groaned softly, his back arching again. “Good thing it can’t.”

“I know something it hasn’t seen,” Brienne said before sitting up again. Jaime opened his eyes to look sideways at her.

Reaching for his hips, Brienne rotated Jaime until his legs were on either side of her, once again dangling over the edge. He tried to sit up but she pushed him back down and ran her hands up and down his thighs and hips. Sitting forward on the edge of her chair, she slowly took him into her mouth. Jaime groaned loudly this time and spread his arms out, trying to grip the surface with his fingers. His legs went around her torso, pulling her closer to him as she slowly worked him in and out of her mouth, her hands roaming all over his lower body.

“Gods, woman,” he moaned, squirming and clutching her with his legs. Brienne reached under Jaime to take his ass in both of her hands, massaging him as she worked his hips to aid her rhythm.

Jaime was lost. Giving himself completely over to her he began to tremble, trying to hold it together long enough to be able to put his cock into her.

“Let me up,” he panted. “I need you.”

Brienne slid her chair back and stood up, her hands moving to unlace her breeches. Pushing them down and stepping out of them, she put her hands on the table and bent down, fixing Jaime with a sultry gaze.

“Ready when you are, Lord Lannister.”

Jaime growled and hopped off table, taking his position behind her. He caressed her backside with his hand and his stump, reaching down between her legs to see if she was ready for him. She hadn’t lied…she was.

Jaime slid into Brienne with a groan and a smile. Brienne smiled herself upon hearing his pleasure. Jaime bent over her and pressed his chest to her back, reaching under her to hold onto her breasts as he began thrusting into her.

“My Jaime,” Brienne let out in a breathy sigh. Jaime buried his face in the back of her hair and grunted softly as he moved in and out of her.

“Yes, my love,” he whispered. “Yours forever and always…and even beyond then.”

Jaime clung to her as he loved her, never wanting to let go. How was it possible to be so much in love with someone? It baffled him every single day.

A few thrusts later he groaned again, emptying himself into Brienne, kissing her behind her ear as he did so.

“My Brienne…my dearest love.”

When he had come down from his spasms, Brienne stood up and turned around to take Jaime in her arms.

“There now…feel better?” She teased him, kissing him on the forehead. Jaime laughed.

“Just so you know, it was not my intention to come here and do this,” he laid his head on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her. “I was simply coming to fetch you to bed.”

“Yes, well, I know how you get when you’re left alone for too long,” she stroked his hair. “My poor neglected husband.”

Jaime snorted against her. “Very funny.” He tightened his hold on her. “I can’t help it if I’m so in love with you that I can’t be without you for long,” he sounded pouty again.

“Well, let me put my pants back on and put these papers away and we can go to bed,” Brienne kissed his earlobe and patted him on the rear.

All it took was the word “bed” and Jaime cheered up again. Brienne sighed again, looking over the papers on the table.

“It’s going to be a long sennight.”

“I know love, we’ll get through it…somehow,” Jaime laughed, buckling up his coat once again.

“I feel like I’ve hardly seen our children lately,” Brienne said sadly. “All of the preparations for the celebration have taken up so much time.”

Jaime walked over to stroke her hair. “We’ll all be together at the feast, that should be nice.”

“Oh, that reminds me, they brought our new clothes by earlier. All of us will match it will be so lovely.”

“I’m sure the boys won’t agree,” Jaime snickered.

“Too bad,” Brienne said. “We’re going as a family whether they like it or not.”

“As long as you only have eyes for me,” Jaime said, smiling. Brienne kissed him softly.

“Wait until you see what I’m wearing,” she winked at him. “You may be the one having a hard time controlling your eyes.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Brynn.”

The voice was only a loud whisper, but it still woke her.

“Brynn, wake up.”

Brynna groaned and rolled over in her bed, trying to make her eyes adjust to her dim bedroom. Finally, the moonlight shining in through the windows outlined her older sister’s shape.

“Jo? Are you alright?” Brynna mumbled sleepily.

Joanna sighed. “No, I need to talk. There’s something I need to tell…someone…and you’re the only one I can really trust with this right now.”

Brynna reached over to light the candle next to her bed, and Joanna’s face came alight. She then slid over to the opposite side of the bed, leaving Joanna room. “Sounds serious.”

Joanna let out a frustrated breath and flopped down onto her sister’s bed, rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling. “I’m in love.”

Brynna let out a small gasp. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“Well, no, I suppose not…but it’s complicated.”

“Does this person feel the same way towards you?”

“Yes…only he’s rather…unsure about things…”

Brynna propped herself up on her elbow. “Wait, I thought you just said he felt the same way about you?”

Joanna laid her arm over her eyes and sighed again. “Yes he does but…it’s…His Grace.”

Brynna’s eyes flew wide and she gasped again. “You’re in love with the _King?_ And he loves you _back?”_ She let out a short laugh. “Wow…that is serious.”

“I know, it’s utterly crazy,” Joanna said. “But I can’t explain it, I just love him.”

“And I’m the only one who knows?”

“So far.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“I don’t know…the better part of this year, I guess?” Joanna said. “But I’ve loved him my entire life…I think.”

“You _think?”_

“It’s hard to explain…we’ve had this…I don’t know…bond…ever since I was a child,” Joanna said softly.

Joanna rolled onto her side to face her sister and continued. “His physical limitations don’t even matter to me. He’s gentle and kind, and he wants to love and be loved. He just doesn’t know how. Plus his powers are messing with his brain. He feels he doesn’t have control.”

“Well, that’s a pretty big thing for someone to deal with, sister,” Brynna said.

“I know, I’m not faulting him, I just don’t know how to help him,” Joanna said quietly. “I don’t know if anyone does.”

Brynna was quiet for a few moments before sighing again. “Well, we don’t get to choose who we love, so if he’s the one who has your heart, then go with it,” she smiled at Joanna. She then grew serious. “Alright, I’m going to ask you something, and I don’t want you to be offended.”

“Uh oh,” Joanna said, bracing herself for whatever her sister was about to say.

Brynna took a deep breath. “If this actually works out, and if you were to actually bind your life to his…you realize he can’t father children, yes? Are you willing to give that up? Not to mention you’d also be _queen?”_

“I know, believe me, I’ve thought about everything,” Joanna answered. “I do love children and would love to have my own, of course, but if that doesn’t happen I could live with it,” Joanna gave Brynna a sad look. “As for being queen? I don’t even know how I would handle that. I don’t even really care about it to be honest. All I know is that I love him, and I’m willing to accept everything that comes with that.”

“But be prepared for a lot of work, especially if his issues with his powers are as bad as you say.”

“That’s the thing,” Joanna said. “I think about it, and it doesn’t feel like work to me. I _want_ to help him, I want him to be in a good head space where he believes he can be whole.”

“Then I think you have your answer,” Brynna said, placing her hand over her sister’s and squeezing it.

Joanna rolled onto her back again and looked at the ceiling. “Do you think Mumma and Papa will be furious?”

Brynna scrunched up her face in thought. “Hmm…furious? No. Concerned? Probably. His Grace is a lot for someone to take on…both physically and mentally, and I’m sure they’d be worried about you having to take on the mantle of queen, but if they see that you truly love each other, I’m sure they will welcome it with open arms.”

“I’m just not ready for people to know yet,” Joanna drew her brows together. “There is one thing that has really been nagging at me, though,” Joanna said. “Bran won’t tell me how he came about his injury.”

“Maybe he’s not ready to talk about it,” Brynna said. “That’s a pretty huge, and painful, part of his life. It’s not like he was injured and healed normally. He has to live with it every day of his life.”

Joanna sighed. “I know, and maybe I’m pushing him too hard, but he said the strangest thing to me…he said it wasn’t entirely his story to tell…I’ve been trying to figure out what he means by that.”

“That is odd.”

Joanna nodded. “I just don’t understand…what could be so awful that he wouldn’t want to talk about it?”

“You say he said it wasn’t only his story? Maybe he wasn’t the only one involved in the accident?” Brynna mused.

“If that’s the case, though, what has Bran so afraid that he’s been keeping their secret all these years?”

They were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. They both froze and turned to look towards the doorway.

“Who in the Seven Hells…?” Joanna whispered.

“Come in?” Brynna called softly.

The door slowly opened and Arthur’s unruly blonde-curled sleep-mussed head peeked around the edge. His eyes were sleepy and his face was flushed. Brynna fixed him with a smile and a tinge of sadness in her eyes.

“Awww, hello little kitten…another nightmare?”

Arthur nodded and rubbed one of his eyes. Joanna moved away from Brynna to make a bigger space between them. Brynna patted the open spot. “Come on, get in here.”

Arthur crawled up onto the bed and settled himself in between his two eldest sisters. Brynna pulled the covers up over them and she and Joanna both laid down again and put their arms around their baby brother. Arthur smiled and burrowed in between them.

“Well this is nice,” Joanna said, placing a kiss on the top of his head. “I hardly ever get to spend quiet time with you nowadays.”

Brynna smoothed Arthur’s curls back from his forehead and then kissed him there.

“Does this happen a lot?” Joanna’s face became concerned.

“No, not really, but he sneaks in here whenever he feels like it, don’t you, kitten?” Brynna tickled Arthur and he giggled and squirmed.

“Yes,” he said as he laughed. “Also, Alysanne and Arianne talk all night in their room and I can hear them. They keep me awake sometimes.” He rolled his eyes and snorted.

Joanna and Brynna shared one suite of rooms, as did Galladon and Selwyn. Alysanne and Arianne had insisted they share a room, so by default, Arthur had the other bedroom in their suite.

Joanna laughed. “Those two share one brain I think.” She tightened her arms around Arthur. “Well, then you just stay here with us, little love.”

“Will you sing for me?” Arthur said softly.

“Oh, so now we’re getting at the real reason you came here,” Brynna said, bending her head down to rub his nose with hers. Arthur smiled and laughed again.

“I think that’s a lovely idea, Arthur,” Joanna said. “Yes, sister, please sing for us.”

Brynna scowled at Joanna but relented just the same. Settling down and stroking Arthur’s curls, she began to sing a lullaby.

_The evening hangs beneath the moon,_  
_ A silver thread on a darkened dune._  
_ With closing eyes and resting head,_  
_ I know that sleep is coming soon._

_Upon my pillow, safe in bed,_  
_ A thousand pictures fill my head._  
_ I cannot sleep, my mind’s a-flight,_  
_ And yet my limbs seem made of lead._

_If there are noises in the night,_  
_ A frightening shadow, flickering light,_  
_ Then I surrender unto sleep,_  
_ Where clouds of dream give second sight._

_What dreams may come, both dark and deep,_  
_ Of flying wings and soaring leap,_  
_ As I surrender into sleep,_  
_ As I surrender into sleep._

Brynna looked down and noticed that both Arthur and Joanna had fallen asleep. She smiled at both of them and hugged Arthur closer, deciding to let them both stay. Two totally different souls both simply in need of her company. She softly chuckled and briefly wondered if Galladon would come waltzing in the door next.

The simple truth was that she wouldn’t dream of changing any one of her siblings. They were all totally unique and all needed her in one way or another, which warmed her to the depths of her heart. If her purpose in life was to be the glue that held the Lannisters together, then she would gladly accept her role with honor and happiness.

To Joanna and Galladon, she was a confidant. To Arthur and the twins, a protector. To Selwyn…well, she wasn’t quite sure, but up until now she seemed to be his partner in being rowdy and having fun at gatherings.

_There’s always one you need to cut loose with._

Brynna looked over at Joanna sleeping and wondered when and if she would find her own love. It wasn’t something she thought about often or was even really concerned with…the thought just crossed her mind now and again, especially with Galladon’s continuing mood swings in regards to love.

Her mind then went to the feast that was to be held in three days’ time. She hoped she had prepared everything well enough. She had been rehearsing with the Keep’s minstrel band for weeks now and believed they had a good selection of tunes and ballads to keep everyone reveling and making merry long into the night. This would be the largest audience she had ever performed for, and the prospect both thrilled and terrified her at the same time.

But the audience she cared most about was right here next to her. Well, two of them anyway. As long as she made her family happy, that was all that mattered to her. With that thought, she buried her face in Arthur’s hair and eventually drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brynna's lullaby is called "Sleep" by Eric Whitacre. Here is a link to the song if anyone is interested...
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GeLW43SqqbA


	8. The Tournament, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grand Tournament celebrating Bran's 20th year as King. Settle in, this is a long one LOL

The day of the grand tournament finally arrived, and King’s Landing was packed to the gills with visitors from all across Westeros. Every inn and tavern in the city was full, as was the Red Keep itself, crammed full with visiting nobles and other influential families.

Brienne and the rest of the Kingsguard were already stressed. She had never seen that many people in and around the Red Keep. It had only been a couple of days that the city had been seemingly full to capacity and she already wanted to hide with Jaime in their chambers until the celebrations were over.

But this is what she had been entrusted with twenty years ago…Bran’s protection, and she fully intended to do her job. That morning she had kissed Jaime goodbye at a time he had considered way too early, and promised him she would meet him at the tourney later so they could watch Galladon compete together.

Jaime, in turn, had gone down to the tourney field to make sure everything was ready to go. Alysanne and Arianne had kept their promise and everything had been overly organized down to the letter. Arianne had even seeded the tourney list so that no one would fight anyone from their own region unless they made it to the final few rounds. Jaime had been extremely impressed and had rained praises down on both of his girls.

In addition to setting the tourney rounds, the twins had also assigned each combatant a spot around the edge of the arena for them to set up their squires and attendants for making sure their armor and equipment were ready for competition. They had also assured that attendants walked around with plenty of water and fruit in case anyone was in need of it.

Jaime was currently standing in front of Galladon in his assigned area, helping him with the finishing touches on his armor, fastening loose buckles, and generally acting like an overly-protective father. Arthur stood next to Jaime, holding Galladon’s sword, his blue eyes looking up at his older brother in awe.

“You alright?” Jaime asked Galladon, who he could see was nervous…his son’s hands shaking a bit as he tried to buckle his sword belt.

Galladon took a deep breath and nodded. “It’s not my first tourney, Ser Papa,” he smiled, trying to reassure his father. “However I’ve never been in one this big before.”

Jaime smiled, placing his hands on Galladon’s shoulders. “You’ll do just fine, sweetheart, and remember, it doesn’t matter where you place, your mother and I are proud of you no matter what.” He drew Galladon into an embrace.

“I know Papa, thank you,” Galladon whispered, hugging his father back. He pulled back and looked down at his baby brother. Kneeling down, Galladon pulled Arthur into his arms. “And you, young Ser…do you want to attend me today? Give me my weapons when I have need of them and make sure my armor stays intact?”

Arthur’s eyes lit up and a huge smile erupted across his face. He looked up excitedly at Jaime.

“Can I Papa? Please? I promise I’ll be careful.”

Jaime smiled proudly at his sons, reaching out to ruffle Arthur’s hair. “Of course, sweetling, but you listen to Galladon and do everything he tells you, alright?”

Arthur nodded vigorously. “Yes, Papa,” he said quietly. He turned back to his brother and hugged him. Galladon stood up whereupon Jaime embraced him again.

“That one is from your mother,” he laughed. Kissing Galladon on the top of his head, he pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Good luck, my son. Don’t do anything reckless or foolish and get yourself injured.”

“I won’t, Ser Papa,” he teased Jaime with his nickname for his parents.

Jaime shook his head and leaned down to kiss Arthur on his hair. “It’s just about time, so I’m going to take my place in the grandstand and hopefully find your mother in this mess.” He stood back to give his boys one more look. “My Lannister sons,” he said, a tear in his eye. “You do our family proud.” He wandered off to find Brienne, leaving Galladon and Arthur to their final preparations.

Jaime found his seat in the grandstand where the royalty and nobles would be sitting. He took his place next to Tyrion and Selwyn, who were engrossed in conversation. Selwyn looked up when his father arrived.

“Hello, Papa,” he said, his smile bright.

“Sel,” Jaime said, reaching out to run a hand through his son’s unruly locks.

“How long before this thing starts?” Tyrion grumbled.

“We’re only waiting on His Grace, I believe,” Jaime said, sitting up in his chair attempting to locate Brienne somewhere in the arena. He noticed Sers Ashtin, Chrestan, and Elrin enter the arena and take up positions staggered around the wall. “Ah, some of the Kingsguard have just entered, should be any moment now.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brienne walked up to Galladon and stood inspecting him. She smiled and wiped a tear from her eye. He sighed and smiled back at her.

“Now, now, Ser Mumma,” he said, moving to kiss her on the cheek. Brienne placed one hand on his shoulder and ran the other through his long golden curls.

“How fine you look,” she said as a few more tears fell. “Are you nervous?”

“A bit,” he said honestly. “I’ve never been in a tourney this large before. And I know I’ve won a few along the way, but this is another level entirely. These are knights and warriors from all over Westeros,” Galladon looked over Brienne’s shoulder, nervously chewing his bottom lip.

“Look at me, Gall,” Brienne said. He obeyed. “It doesn’t matter where you place today, your father and I are proud of you no matter what.”

Galladon laughed. “Papa said the exact same thing not fifteen minutes ago.”

“Yes, well, he has been known to say an intelligent thing every now and again.”

They laughed together before Galladon became serious again.

“I love you both,” he said, his voice catching. Brienne smiled and stroked his hair again.

“And we love you, sweetling,” she leaned forward and pressed her forehead to his. “Be safe.”

“I will,” Galladon whispered back.

Arthur snuck in between them and wrapped his arms around Brienne’s waist, not wanting to be left out. Brienne looked down and laughed.

“Hello my little love, are you helping your brother today?”

Arthur looked up and nodded as Galladon stroked his head.

“He sure is,” Galladon said proudly. Arthur turned to lean against his brother as Galladon moved his hand to Arthur’s shoulder. Brienne smiled at her boys.

“Right, I better go and make sure His Grace is settled, as well as your father,” she rolled her eyes and chuckled, kissing each of her sons once more before leaving. Suddenly remembering something, she turned back.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” she reached into her belt pouch and produced a crimson velvet ribbon with gold trim. Fastening it about Galladon’s left bicep, she smiled. “This is from Brynna, for luck.”

Galladon looked down at the favor and smiled. “Will she be here?”

“Sadly no, she has to rehearse with the minstrels in preparation for the grand feast.”

Galladon huffed. “It seems that’s all she does now.”

“I know, darling, but she wants to make sure everything is just right for it,” Brienne said. Blowing Galladon one more kiss, she turned to leave.

Brienne made her way to the grandstand, first giving a visual scan of the arena to make eye contact and acknowledgment with Ashtin, Chrestan, Elrin, Podrick, and Cayle all in turn. Joanna, she noticed, had just positioned Bran in his place and took her seat beside him. Brienne walked up to take her seat on his other side.

“I really need to fill that eighth spot on the Kingsguard,” she muttered to Bran and Joanna as she sat down. “There is an awful lot of ground to cover here.”

Bran chuckled quietly. “I’m sure you’ll make the right choice when it’s time.”

Brienne felt her hand being slipped into another one and then raised to be kissed. She looked to Jaime on her other side to find green eyes staring at her over her knuckles. She leaned forward to kiss him properly.

“I was missing you,” he said softly against her lips. “Did you see Gall?”

Brienne kissed him again before replying. “Yes, I just came from there. He’s nervous, Jaime, I’m scared for him.”

Jaime kept his grip on Brienne’s hand and laid it on his thigh. “He’ll be alright, love. You remember what it’s like to fight in tourneys.”

Brienne nodded. “I know, but he’s so young, and these are some real heavy hitters.”

Jaime laughed. “Bree, he’s not _that_ young, and he’s won a couple of these before.”

Brienne fidgeted nervously. Jaime tightened his grip on her hand and stroked it with his thumb.

“Is there room for three more in this party?” A familiar voice shouted from behind them. They all turned to see Arya and Gendry Baratheon and Sansa Stark standing in a row behind Bran’s chair. Brienne squealed and jumped up, gasping and bringing her hands to her mouth.

“Oh, my girls!” She shouted, reaching awkwardly over Bran to draw Sansa and Arya into an embrace. “Oh, it’s been so long…much too long.” Tears were falling from her eyes. Bran was doing his best to turn in his chair to see his sisters. Once Brienne released them, they came around to greet their brother. Sansa curtseyed properly while Arya just jumped right into Bran’s lap and hugged him tightly.

Brienne reached over to embrace Gendry. “Lord Baratheon,” she said as she hugged him.

“Lady Ser,” Gendry said, gifting her a brilliant smile as he broke their embrace. “Ser Jaime, Lord Tyrion,” he said. The Lannister brothers waved back and greeted him.

Brienne gestured at her daughter and son. “You remember Joanna and Selwyn,” she smiled proudly.

Arya’s eyes went wide. “This is _Selwyn?_ My gods, you’ve grown since the last time I saw you.”

“Yes, well I believe I was about three the last time you saw me, Auntie Arya,” he winked at her.

Arya fixed him with a jovial scowl. “It has been way too long, your mother is right.” She turned around in Bran’s lap. “And Joanna! Look at you, you’re beautiful!” Arya brought her hands up to cup Joanna’s face.

Joanna blushed and smiled. “Thank you, Auntie Arya.”

Sansa moved past Bran and Arya to give Brienne a proper hug. They clung to each other for several minutes, not saying anything. Jaime stroked the back of Brienne’s leg for comfort as Brienne stroked the back of Sansa’s hair.

“My dear girl,” Brienne whispered. “How are things in the North?”

Sansa stood back at last, her eyes shiny. Adjusting her direwolf crown, she smiled. “Things are well, my people are happy.”

“I’m so glad for you,” Brienne said.

“You really should come and visit sometime,” Sansa said. “Bring the children. I’ve been trying to get Bran to come up for quite some time now.”

Jaime looked up at Brienne. “Sounds like a nice idea. We could revisit old haunts,” he said with a sly grin. Brienne blushed and Sansa chuckled.

“I know Arthur would love to go,” Brienne said. “He’s so curious about everything.”

“Yes, where is he?” Sansa said, looking around. “Hello, Selwyn,” she said when her eyes fell on him. She also noticed Tyrion. She gave him a soft smile and knelt to embrace him tightly. A few tears fell from Tyrion’s eyes as he held his former wife.

“He’s with Galladon,” Brienne said, sitting down again. Jaime once again reclaimed her hand. Selwyn stood up and offered his seat to Sansa.

“Here, Auntie Sansa, sit here with Uncle Tyrion. I’m sure you two have lots to catch up on.”

“Thank you, Selwyn,” Sansa replied. “That’s very kind of you.” She sat down and took Tyrion’s hand, immediately pulling him into quiet conversation. Selwyn moved to sit behind his parents, next to Gendry. Brienne turned around to stroke his cheek.

“That was thoughtful of you, thank you.”

Selwyn smiled and winked at her. Arya climbed off Bran’s lap and moved to take her seat on Gendry’s other side. Brienne smiled at both of them, drinking in the sight after being apart from them for years.

“Where is Nymeria?” she asked, inquiring after their only daughter.

“Wandering around the merchant stalls,” Arya said.

“Probably looking for some new exotic weapon,” Gendry remarked, smirking at his wife.

Gendry had settled in to his role as Lord of Storm’s End and Warden of the East quite well. He looked every inch the handsome lord in his black leather doublet and Baratheon cloak and colors. The blue of his eyes was bright as ever as he reached to take Arya’s hand in his. She in turn gave him a flirtatious smirk as she leaned into him. Arya was also dressed in dark leathers with both the Baratheon and Stark sigils on her jerkin.

Brienne suddenly stood up and turned around to look at all of them together. Leaning back against the top of the arena wall, she smiled with more tears in her eyes, her heart full at the sight of her little extended family.

“I know we all send ravens to each other on a regular basis, but nothing compares to seeing your faces and having you here.”

Bran smiled, reaching over his shoulder to take Arya’s hand. No one else noticed that he subtly brushed Joanna’s hand with his other one. “I agree, it’s wonderful to see you all.”

“Your Grace, my Lords, Ladies, Sers, assembled nobility and other honored guests!” The tourney herald’s voice rang through the crowd, making Brienne turn and take her seat again. “Welcome to His Majesty King Bran’s celebratory tournament!”

A huge cheer went up throughout the entire arena, making Brienne jump when she realized just how loud it was and how many people were there. Jaime inched closer to her and stroked her thigh to calm her.

Joanna leaned over to mutter in Bran’s ear. “Are you alright? I know you’re not comfortable with all this attention.”

Bran gave her a sideways glance and a nod. “As long as you’re here I’m fine,” he whispered so only she could hear. Joanna smiled and blushed and sat straight in her chair again.

Podrick, Chrestan, Ashtin, Elren, and Cayle finished their walk around the arena to make sure there were no threats to Bran, and took up their positions in front of the grandstand where Bran was seated. The herald made a few grand speeches about the heroics and bravery of the combatants and wished them all luck before turning back to Bran.

“With your permission Your Grace…”

Bran nodded and held up his hand. The herald smiled and shouted.

“I declare this grand tournament officially open!”

The crowd erupted again and things got underway. The marshalls of the different combat areas in the arena each ran back and forth between their stations and the table manned by Alysanne and Arianne, getting match-ups and reporting who had won their bout and who was moving on to the next round. Even at only three and ten, the twins moved as a fluid pair, recording the results and getting the pairings ready for the next round almost immediately.

The tourney field was alive with noise, color, and the jovial sound of warriors at play. Each bout was carried out and won with honor and good sportsmanship, and Brienne noticed with relief, surprise, and pride that Galladon was still in the mix and had won his first three bouts. Jaime was both amused and moved by her nervousness for their son and kept his tight hold on either her hand or her thigh, depending on if she was applauding or not.

“Galladon has become quite good!” Sansa said, apparently as surprised as Brienne. Brienne and Jaime both turned and smiled at her.

“He’s come a rather long way,” Jaime said proudly.

“He’s such a sweet lad, as well,” Tyrion said quietly to Sansa. “He’s what a true knight should be, both in words and in deeds.” Sansa slipped her hand back into his.

“Thank you for your letters,” she said softly. “I enjoy our correspondence…makes it less lonely up in the North. Although as you know, I do keep rather busy running the place.” She laughed.

Tyrion stroked her hand. “I enjoy it too. Makes things less lonely here, if you can imagine this place being lonely or quiet,” he chuckled.

“I used to live here, I know how quiet and lonely it can be. Especially at night,” Sansa replied sadly. “It makes me sad to think of you as lonely.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Tyrion said. “I have my family and your brother, and I am kept well busy as you can imagine.” He shifted to face her and brought his forehead close to hers. “I meant what I said though. When I am allowed to leave your brother’s service and retire, I will come North to you, so neither of us has to live out our days alone. I may not be able to give you heirs, but I can give you me.”

“That’s all I need,” Sansa answered. “Just your good companionship and counsel…and I will be happy. We just have to be patient, but our continued correspondence will aid that.”

Tyrion raised her hand and kissed it, smiling at her.


	9. The Tournament, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tournament comes to a close. Another long chapter!

The tournament continued on and the lists continued to dwindle as competitors were knocked out each round. Once fighters were eliminated, they took their seats on the small bench in their designated rest areas around the arena.

Galladon currently sat on his bench, his helmet beside him. He scanned the arena, taking in the quality and skill of the contenders that had both left the tourney and those that still remained.

_How in the seven hells did I make it to the quarterfinals?_

Arthur climbed up onto the bench next to him and Galladon put his arm around his younger brother’s shoulders and pulled him close.

“So, what do you think, little one?”

Arthur looked around the arena, his eyes wide with awe and admiration. After taking a long survey he looked up at Galladon.

“I think you’re the best and bravest of all,” he said softly.

Galladon’s breath caught around the sudden lump in his throat. Tears came to his eyes as he gasped and smiled at Arthur. He wrapped his arm more tightly around his brother and leaned down to kiss the top of his head.

“I wish that were true, sweetling, I wish that were true.”

“It is,” Arthur said. “You have a good heart, I can see it.”

Galladon chuckled and looked down at him. “When did you become so wise?”

Arthur shrugged. “I can just tell.” He said it as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Galladon smiled at him.

“I hope you never change, sweetling,” he whispered. “I hope you’re always this innocent. I fear the day that life sneaks in and makes you jaded.” He stroked Arthur’s cheek.

Arthur scrunched up his face. “What’s jaded?”

Galladon laughed. “Good…let’s hope you never find out.”

Arthur just shrugged and shook his head, turning his attention back to the tournament where the next round was about to begin.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Galladon narrowly won his next bout and advanced to the semi-final round. Walking back to his bench, Arthur ran to him and embraced him around the waist.

“I knew you could do it! Just two more rounds and you win!”

Galladon laughed and ran a towel over his sweaty hair. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. One of the most important things is to never underestimate an opponent. They may have different skills that you need to be wary of.”

Arthur nodded, taking in his brother’s advice.

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by giggling and whispers, and Galladon looked up to see that his usual group of courtly admirers had suddenly taken up residence on the other side of the arena wall directly behind his station. He inwardly rolled his eyes.

_Gods, just what I need…_

He smiled and bowed like a good gentleman. He noticed that Lannia Fossoway had pushed her way to the front of the group.

“Galladon!” She shouted over the crowd noise. “I’ve come to wish you luck for your next round!”

_Yes, I’m sure you have…and in front of everyone else as well. So predictable._

“My thanks, my lady, I’m sure it will aid me to victory.” He noticed Lannia’s eyes fall to the ribbon tied around his left bicep. Her expression soured.

“Whose honor do you fight for this day?” She asked, trying to sound light and uncaring.

“’Tis a gift from my sister, who couldn’t attend today,” Galladon replied, enjoying Lannia’s discomfort. He noted a bit of relief in her face however when he said the favor was from Brynna rather than a rival for his affections. “If you’ll be so kind as to excuse me, ladies, I need to prepare.”

Galladon turned and put his arm around Arthur again, drawing him away from the crowd.

“That’s jaded,” he said, laughing.

Arthur made a face. “Oh. Girls…yuck.”

Galladon laughed harder. “Mumma and our sisters are girls, sweetling.”

“I know, but I like them.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“He’s in the semi-finals, Jaime, I’m so proud of him!” Brienne was practically beside herself. She bounced in her seat and clapped, a huge bright smile on her face. Jaime was so taken with her that he felt compelled to lean over, put his arms around her and pull her in to kiss her on the cheek.

“Have I told you how utterly adorable you are today?” He said, kissing her again and nuzzling her ear. Brienne giggled and squirmed.

“Are they always like this?” Sansa said, laughing at their antics. Tyrion turned to her and rolled his eyes.

“Always.”

Brienne and Jaime both turned to glare at them. Sansa covered her mouth with her hand and laughed.

“Awww, how sweet,” Joanna cooed from the other side of Bran. “Gall’s flock of pigeons have come to gaze adoringly at him again.”

Brienne looked over and gave her daughter a disapproving look. “Joanna, leave your brother alone.”

“Mumma, he can’t hear me,” Joanna said sarcastically, spreading her hands with her palms upwards.

The herald once again walked to the center of the arena to announce the first pairing of the semi-final round. A Ser Deston Blackwood of Raventree Hall was to fight Lord Corbus Rykker of Duskendale.

The two combatants walked out to the center of the arena and saluted each other and then both turned to salute Bran, who nodded back at them. The match started and a hush fell over the crowd.

Brienne found herself captivated with Ser Deston’s fighting. He was quick and graceful, like Jaime had been in his prime, she imagined.

“He’s quite impressive,” she mumbled to Jaime. “I bet you used to fight like that.”

“Quite close, actually, Brienne, you’re right,” it was Tyrion who answered her.

Jaime narrowed his eyes, studying Deston closely. “He is quite good, indeed.”

The bout continued on a while with Ser Deston coming out victorious. He removed his helmet and bowed gallantly to his opponent, the exchange ending with him and Lord Corbus smiling and grasping forearms.

“He’s quiet honorable as well it seems,” Brienne said. Deston and Corbus turned and bowed to Bran before waving to the crowd’s cheers and adoration. Once they left and returned to their areas, it was time for Galladon’s next round.

He was to fight a Ser Rodnar Brax of Hornvale, a man not too much older than he was. Helmets off, they approached each other at the center of the arena as the herald introduced them to the crowd. Brienne and Jaime could see Galladon exchange a few words and smiles with Ser Rodnar before they parted with a grasp of forearms to get themselves ready.

“Oh, Jaime, I’m so proud of him,” Brienne said wistfully. “He comports himself so well on the field.”

Chrestan turned around from his position in front of them on the other side of the arena wall. “Like I said, commander, he’s ready.”

Brienne reached out to squeeze Chrestan’s shoulder in thanks as her eyes grew misty with motherly pride.

“He’s a good lad,” Jaime said, his hand once again in Brienne’s, giving it a squeeze. Galladon caught their eyes as he walked back to his bench where Arthur awaited with his sword and shield. He smiled at them as they smiled and waved back. Brienne blew him a kiss as well.

The match began and Brienne moved to the edge of her seat. She kept squeezing and releasing Jaime’s hand in nervousness. He smiled and slid his arm around her to stroke her back, moving his stump to her thigh to replace his hand. Without even looking down, she took hold of it and continued her restless movements.

Jaime continued to soothe her through their son’s bout as she came halfway off the bench time and time again, gasping and cheering.

“Hey, love, stop chewing your lip, you’ll make it bleed,” he said to her at one point. Instead of listening to him, Brienne simply grabbed his stump in both her hands and brought it to her chest, worrying it between her hands while never taking her eyes off the action in the arena.

Jaime laughed and shook his head just as Brienne exploded off the bench, cheering and clapping, as Galladon won yet again. Jaime followed suit, standing up to cheer his son.

Panting and bending over with his hands on his knees, Galladon looked up at Ser Rodnar and the two shared a smile before embracing. They then turned and bowed to Bran and walked off back to their spots.

Arthur was jumping up and down and clapping. Galladon gave him a wide grin and knelt down to hug him.

“Just one more!” Arthur said, his arms wrapped around his brother’s neck.

“Yes, yes,” Galladon laughed, standing up again. “We can’t just assume I will win, though, remember?”

Arthur nodded. “Uh huh.”

“Tell you what, when the final match starts, I want you to go and watch with Mumma and Papa. That way you have the best view, alright?”

“Alright,” Arthur replied quietly.

Galladon prepared for the final bout, taking a few moments to collect his thoughts and settle his nerves. When he was ready, he walked over to his parents, Arthur clinging to his hand.

“Ser Mumma, Ser Papa, I’ve brought you something,” Galladon said, smiling. Reaching down, he lifted Arthur up and over the arena wall into Brienne’s waiting arms. She hugged him tightly to her.

“Ohhh, my little love, did you have fun with Gall?”

“Yes, Mumma,” he whispered. He turned to Jaime. "And I did everything he said just like you told me."

"That's my good boy," Jaime said, leaning over to kiss Arthur on the cheek.

Brienne handed her youngest off to his father and reached down to embrace Galladon.

“Oh, my darling, we’re so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Mumma,” Galladon blushed. He then took a look around and let loose his bright smile. “Auntie Arya! Auntie Sansa! Uncle Gendry! Wonderful to see you!”

“Hello, Galladon,” Sansa answered. “You’ve been quite impressive out there.”

“Many thanks,” his eyes grew wide and he puffed out his cheeks. “Not an easy list, by any means.” He looked around at them all again. “Wow, I haven’t seen you all since I was…well I can’t remember.”

“I was three, so you were four, brother,” Selwyn shouted at him from behind Brienne. Selwyn slid his feet to rest on the bench in between Brienne and Bran’s chair. Brienne turned and batted him away.

Arthur slid off of Jaime’s lap to sit on the bench in between his parents. He leaned towards Brienne to whisper in her ear.

“Mumma, who is that with Uncle Tyrion?”

“Oh my goodness! I completely forgot you’ve never met them,” Brienne said, standing up. She turned around to face behind her again, taking Arthur’s hand and pulling him to his feet. “Sansa, Arya, Gendry…this is Arthur, our youngest.”

Arthur shyly waved at them. “Hello.”

Sansa sat forward on the bench. “Hello, Arthur, I’m Sansa. I’m Queen in the North, and I’d love for you to come visit me in Winterfell sometime.”

Arthur’s eyes grew wide and he looked up at Brienne. “Wow, Mumma, can we go?”

Brienne stroked his hair. “Yes, my little love, we can go at some point,” she pointed at Arya. “This is Sansa and His Grace’s sister, Arya, and her lord husband, Gendry, who is the Lord of Storm’s End.”

“That's near Tarth, right? Hello,” Arthur said, again waving.

Gendry smiled and leaned forward. "Indeed it is, just a hop over the bay. We'd love for you to come see us as well sometime."

Arya was about to lean over to speak to him when they were all suddenly interrupted by the arrival of Alysanne and Arianne, who had finished their duties for the day and had come to join their parents.

“Well, here are my brilliant girls,” Jaime said. “Wonderful job today, you two.”

“Thank you, Papa,” Alysanne said as she climbed past him and settled herself next to Selwyn. Arianne squeezed in between Jaime and Tyrion.

“These are the twins?” Arya said incredulously. “Gods, they were just barely out of the cradle the last time we saw them.”

Brienne reached out to stroke Arianne’s cheek before she sat back down and pulled Arthur into her lap. “Yes, this is them. Girls, this is Arya and Sansa Stark, his Grace’s sisters, and Lord Gendry Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End and Arya’s lord husband.”

“Hello,” both girls said in unison.

Ser Deston Blackwood suddenly appeared at Galladon’s side, stopping to bow before Bran and then offering his hand to his opponent. Galladon smiled and gripped Deston’s forearm. He could hear another group of ladies nearby whispering and sighing at the sight of them. For the first time, he realized they were talking more about Deston than about him, for which he was silently thankful. Looking Deston over, Galladon could see why. Aesthetically speaking, the man was beautiful, with thick dark brown waves of hair that flowed down to his collar and eyes that were the color of darkened mead.

“I just wanted to introduce myself, I’m Deston Blackwood of Raventree Hall,” he bowed before Galladon, who was quite taken aback at the gesture. “I’ve been watching you fight, you’re quite good. I hope you don’t mind if I ask your age?”

Galladon straightened up, suddenly overcome with pride. “Oh, many thanks, Ser, I fear I’ve just been rather lucky to get this far today, though. I am six and ten years.”

Deston’s dark eyebrows went up and he smiled. “You’re quite accomplished for your age, Lord Galladon, I look forward to facing off against such a worthy competitor.”

“As do I,” Galladon said. “Oh! Please, meet my family.” He turned and gestured at them.

“Mumma, this is Ser Deston Blackwood, my final opponent. Ser Deston, my mother, Lady Ser Brienne Lannister.”

Deston’s eyes flew wide and he coughed. “Your mother is Ser Brienne? The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard?” He bowed deeply before her, taking her hand and kissing it. Brienne immediately placed her other hand on Jaime’s thigh as she could feel him tensing up at the gesture.

“This is a great honor, my lady Ser, tales of your greatness are legend all over Westeros.” Deston straightened up and gave her a smile. He had quite a contagious grin, one that was warm and inviting without being pretentious.

Brienne flushed as Selwyn nudged her on the shoulder and the twins, Arya and Sansa all giggled.

“A pleasure, Ser Deston,” she said. “We’ve been watching you, you comport yourself quite well. This is my lord husband, Ser Jaime Lannister, also our Master of Law…his brother and Hand of the King, Lord Tyrion Lannister…Queen Sansa Stark…Lord and Lady Baratheon of Storm’s End…Galladon’s brothers and sisters, apart from one,” Brienne chuckled at that. “And of course, his Grace.”

Deston shook his head, “I’m afraid that will take some time to get everyone straight.” He bowed again. “Your Grace, it is an honor.”

“Congratulations on reaching the final bout, Ser Deston,” Bran said. “I wish you both luck,” he continued, looking at Galladon as well.

“Is your family here, Ser?” Brienne enquired further.

Deston shook his head. “No, my Lady Ser, they are all back at home in the Riverlands. Apart from representing them here to pay homage to His Grace, I’ve actually come hoping to remain and make a life here. I love my home but I feel I can do more good in the capitol.”

Brienne and Bran exchanged a look, one of both admiration and hope.

“Well, we must strive to make you most welcome, Ser Deston, you seem a very honorable and kind soul,” Bran said. Deston bowed again.

“You are most kind, Your Grace.”

“I suppose we better get ready,” Galladon broke in. “The crowd will be getting restless,” he turned to his parents. “Ser Mumma, Ser Papa, I’ll see you in a bit. He reached out to ruffle Arthur’s hair. “Thank you for all of your help today, little man.”

Arthur smiled and laid his head shyly on Brienne’s shoulder.

“You two be careful and please don’t injure each other,” Brienne motherly admonished her son and Ser Deston. They both bowed to her, smiling, and went to take their places.

“He’s the one,” Bran said quietly so only Brienne could hear.

“The one….?”

“The eighth member of the Kingsguard you’ve been trying so hard to find.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Galladon and Deston fought a brilliant match, fraught with excitement, skill, and honor. They were pretty evenly matched in ability, but Ser Deston was just that tiny bit better and he ended up the victor. After Galladon yielded, the two of them sat on the ground laughing and catching their breath…taking a few moments to collect themselves before the ceremony started.

“You fight brilliantly,” Deston said to Galladon. “I fear you’ll be quite something to reckon with once you’re a tad bit older…not that you can’t hold your own now, of course.”

Galladon smiled, still breathing a bit heavily. “My thanks, Ser. If you’re going to be remaining in King’s Landing I’d love the opportunity to train with you.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

The herald walked over to them and told them it was time for their presentation to His Grace. Deston stood and offered Galladon a hand up. They walked over to stand on either side of the herald as he held up a hand to quiet the crowd.

“To all those here assembled!” He began. “His Grace thanks you all for attending his tournament this fine day! Many a fine warrior fought bravely and honorably today, but it all came down to just two. I am pleased to present to you your victor…Ser Deston Blackwood of Raventree Hall!”

The crowd exploded into cheers and applause, and the result was quite deafening. Deston and Galladon embraced and then waved to the crowd, with Galladon eventually stepping back and applauding and letting Deston enjoy his moment.

The herald once again held up his hand for silence. Upon the crowd settling again, he turned towards Deston.

“Good Ser, as victor of the tournament, it is your privilege to choose and crown whomever you deem as your Queen of Love and Beauty,” he produced a crown made up of different flowers that grew in the vicinity of King’s Landing and handed it to Deston. He took it and turned it over in his hands and then chuckled, blushing.

“If I might have a moment to confer with my worthy opponent, please.”

He cocked his head at Galladon, who walked over to him, question in his expression.

“Is everything alright?” He asked Deston.

“Yes, it’s just that…I don’t know anyone here, so I was hoping to get your input on who I should name Queen of Love and Beauty,” they both laughed. Galladon looked around.

“Well, none of these vain girls, that’s for sure,” he muttered almost to himself.

Deston raised an eyebrow at that. “Who would you name if you had won?”

The answer was simple and quick. “My mother.” Galladon smiled and his eyes grew soft.

Deston’s eyes lit up and he pointed at Galladon. “Brilliant idea.” He turned back to the herald. “If I may?”

“The arena is yours, Ser,” the herald responded, making a sweeping gesture with his hand. Deston stepped forward to address the crowd.

“Your Grace, my Lords, Ladies, Sers, and honored guests here assembled!” He began, his rich voice carrying through the arena. “It has been a pleasure to compete here today, and I must say that the list was full of worthy and honorable warriors, and I’d like to think there isn’t just one winner today, but all of us.”

The crowd once again broke into applause and shouts, obviously impressed with Deston’s chivalry.

“As it is now my honor to crown my Queen of Love and Beauty. After careful conversation with my comrade here,” he motioned to Galladon. “We have decided that today’s Queen, a wonderful lady who inspires many with both her deeds and her words…a true model of both a knight and a person.”

Brienne suddenly realized what was happening. “Oh gods…” she blushed and put her face in her hand. Deston walked towards her and stood in front of her, smiling and holding the crown in both of his hands.

“My lady Ser, would you do me the honor?”

Galladon stood by snickering, and Brienne threw him a motherly scowl. She looked back to Deston and smiled, nodding her head. He turned back to the crowd and held up the flower crown.

"Your Queen of Love and Beauty…the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard…Lady Ser Brienne Lannister of Tarth!”

He turned back and laid the crown on her head as the crowd cheered. Deston once again kissed Brienne’s hand as Arya stood up and _whooped_ loudly, causing everyone around her to laugh and clap as well. Brienne waved to the crowd and thanked Deston before turning to Jaime. As she looked at him, she noticed he looked rather sad.

Brienne pulled Arthur onto her lap so she could slide up against Jaime. She reached down to take his hand.

“Love? What is it?” She stroked his hand with her thumb.

Jaime lifted his mouth in half a smirk and leaned to kiss her on the cheek. “Nothing, Bree…just wishing I could have won a tourney for you at some point and crowned you myself.”

Brienne reached up and brushed his hair back from his forehead. “You make me feel like the Queen of Love and Beauty every day, my love, and I walked away with the grand prize in the end.”

She kissed him softly on his mouth and rested her forehead against his, stroking his cheek. “You silly wonderful man,” she whispered. “Don’t ever think you’re not enough for me.”

“Your Grace, if I may have a moment,” it was Ser Chrestan who had spoken.

Bran nodded. “Of course, Ser Chrestan, the arena is yours.”

Chrestan moved to stand next to Galladon and in front of Jaime and Brienne. He reached out to put a hand on Deston’s shoulder.

“As this good Ser has so valiantly pointed out, there were many worthy and talented fighters here today. Not least of all, the young man who came in second out of over forty fighters, who also happens to be my charge.” He put his arm around Galladon’s shoulders. “You have proven yourself a fine warrior under my tutelage and I couldn’t be more proud.”

Chrestan turned back to Brienne and Jaime. “If you would both be so kind as to come down here into the arena.”

Jaime and Brienne exchanged a glance, Jaime looking confused. Brienne set Arthur on his feet and he walked to stand between Joanna’s knees as she put her arms around him. Jaime held Brienne’s hand as she swung her legs over the wall and hopped down. He followed her and they both stood in front of Chrestan. Galladon looked back and forth between them, not quite sure what was going on.

Chrestan gestured to _Oathkeeper_ hanging at Brienne’s side. “If you and Ser Jaime will do the honors…I will say the words.” Turning back to Galladon, he gestured with his hand.

“Kneel.”

Tears sprang to Brienne’s eyes as she took in a gasping breath. She locked eyes with Galladon and could see he was just as stunned. He looked at Jaime, who nodded proudly, his eyes shiny as well. Taking a few deep breaths, Galladon slowly dropped to one knee, looking up at those assembled around him. Deston was smiling, Chrestan was serious, and Jaime and Brienne were silently crying.

Brienne unsheathed _Oathkeeper_ and held it in her left hand so that Jaime could stand behind her with his hand over hers. A hush fell over the crowd and the only thing that could be heard was the wind through the trees, the banners fluttering, and the whispers of excited ladies. Looking over her shoulder at Jaime, Brienne nodded, and together they brought the sword’s blade down to gently touch their son’s right shoulder.

Chrestan spoke the invocation.

“In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave.”

Jaime and Brienne moved the blade to Galladon’s left shoulder as a tear rolled down his cheek. Chrestan continued.

“In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just.”

The sword moved back again and Chrestan finished…

“In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent. Arise, Galladon Lannister, a knight of the six kingdoms.”

“No…_seven_ kingdoms,” Sansa’s voice came from behind them. “For he shall hereafter be welcomed as a knight in the North as well.”

Brienne beamed Sansa a brilliant teary smile as Galladon stood up and flung himself into his father’s arms. The crowd erupted once again, celebrating Westeros’ newest knight. Even Joanna smiled and wiped away a tear, hugging Arthur tightly to her chest as he clapped.

“Ser Galladon Lannister! Knight of the…_seven_ kingdoms,” Tyrion shouted with a sidelong glance and smile at Sansa.

“Well done, my sweet boy,” Jaime whispered into Galladon’s hair. Brienne embraced their son from the other side.

“Oh, my darling, how wonderful.”

Galladon moved to embrace Chrestan, whispering his thanks. He then looked over at his sister and fixed her with a smirk. He strutted over to her and leaned against the wall in front of her. Arthur smiled at him and hugged his brother around the neck. Galladon kissed the top of his head and looked at Joanna again.

“Well, well, sister…we’re equals now.”

Joanna bit back a hundred japes she could have thrown at him. Instead, she simply smiled and reached out to play with a golden tendril of his hair.

“And I couldn’t be more proud, brother.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What a day!” Brienne said upon entering their rooms at last. They were exhausted and Brienne was looking forward to a good night’s sleep. Jaime closed the door behind him, hung up his leather coat and moved to sit in his chair in front of the fireplace. Pulling off his boots and socks, he stretched out his long legs in front of him and his arms over his head, his joints cracking sporadically. Wiggling his toes, he propped his feet up on the footrest and warmed them. He sighed happily, looking up at Brienne, who was still wearing her flower crown.

Jaime smiled at her. She was still giddy from the day’s activities as she flitted around, going to the cabinet to get the salve to rub on his stump before they went to bed. Pulling her chair over near Jaime’s, Brienne sat and rolled up his sleeve and began massaging the salve into his arm. Jaime closed his eyes and laid his head back against the chair.

“You take such good care of me, my love,” he sighed. Opening sleepy eyes again, he focused on the crown on her head. “Are you going to wear that all night?” He laughed.

“Maybe,” she smirked at him. “It’s the first time I’ve ever been Queen of Love and Beauty…my how things have changed,” she laughed her infectious giggle.

“It was Gall’s idea,” Jaime said. “I think it was very sweet.” He then grew serious. “You’ll always be my Queen of Love and Beauty. Like I said earlier I just wish I could have won a tourney for you at some point.”

Brienne leaned forward to kiss him softly as she continued rubbing his arm. “And like I told you earlier, you make me feel like I’ve won all the tourneys in all the land every day.”

Jaime smiled again and brought his hand up to stroke her cheek. They sat in companionable silence as Brienne worked the salve into his stump and forearm, the sound of the crackling fire filling the room.

“Galladon a knight,” Jaime said quietly. “I have two children who are knights, with more coming I’m sure…plus my wife…I couldn’t have dreamed for a better family, Bree.”

“We love you too,” Brienne answered. Standing up to kiss him on the forehead, she walked back to the cabinet to put the salve away. Jaime sat forward and pulled his shirt off and then began to unlace his breeches. Lifting his hips off the chair he slid them down and kicked them off and to the side, slumping back into the chair and letting his legs fall open, the heat from the fire warming him.

He let out a satisfactory groan. “Ahhhh, yes, that’s the stuff. There’s nothing quite like being naked, am I right, love?” He was pleasantly drowsy now that Brienne had massaged his arm and he had shed all of his clothing.

Brienne giggled at him. She stood staring at him for several moments. Shaking her head and walking over to him, she took the crown off and placed it on his head.

“There…I hereby crown you my King of Love and Beauty,” she kept laughing at him. Jaime perked up at that and stood up out of the chair to strut around the room. Stopping and turning back to face Brienne, he put his hand and stump on his hips and puffed out his chest.

“How do I look?”

“Ridiculous,” Brienne cackled. “But then again I love your ridiculousness.”

Jaime huffed at her. “You can’t speak to me that way…I’m the King.” He stuck his nose in the air.

Brienne continued laughing and walked over to him, snaking her arms around him and grabbing his buttocks with both hands.

“It’s time for bed, Your Grace,” she said, trying to hold in her laughter.

“You can’t order me around either,” Jaime quipped, adapting an air of smugness.

“Oh yes I can,” Brienne gave him a playful swat on his backside. “I’ve been doing it for years and I’m not about to stop now.”

“Quite right,” Jaime snickered, putting his arms around her. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He leaned in to place kisses on her neck. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” he mumbled against her skin.

“Does His Grace wish me to disrobe?” Brienne teased him.

“Yes…that’s a royal order…your King wishes to make love.” His kisses were becoming more heated and his hand started roaming to the laces of Brienne’s leather surcoat.

“Oh, he does, does he?” Brienne said breathily, succumbing to her husband’s ministrations as she always did.

“He does.”

“Well, then I guess I have to comply,” she whispered, running her hands up and down his back.

“Yes…otherwise I’ll have you executed,” Jaime said, sucking on the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder.

Brienne laughed again as Jaime managed to get her coat off and let it fall to the floor. She aided him by undoing her breeches as he pulled her shirt over her head.

“There, now I’m as naked as you are,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. Jaime pulled her flush against him and they both moaned softly. He walked her slowly backwards until the back of his legs hit the bed. Reaching up, he took the flower crown and hooked it over the bedpost.

Pulling Brienne down on top of him on the bed, he continued to kiss her.

“What does my King command?” Brienne said softly, smiling against Jaime’s lips.

He scrunched up his face in thought. “Hmm…I think I have a sudden desire to knight you again.”

“Oh?”

He winked at her and gave her a seductive smile. “Yes, only this time I’ll use a different sword.”


	10. The Lion and the She-Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Brynna told him...Galladon is knocked out of his boots ;)
> 
> Also, Deston gets a job.

Newly knighted Ser Galladon Lannister was still riding high the next day after the tourney. The joust was taking place today but since he wasn’t participating in that he promised Deston he would meet him in the training yard. Upon arriving, he was pleased to see many of the competitors from yesterday’s tourney there sparring, exchanging techniques, and generally enjoying the comradery.

Galladon located Deston in the yard. He was talking with some of the other fighters from the tourney. Deston noticed him and waved and made a gesture that he would be over in a bit. Galladon nodded and waved and went to the armory to get a tourney sword. Upon choosing one, he walked back over to Deston and stood politely by waiting for him to finish his conversation.

Looking around the yard, Galladon watched the different pairs of fighters sparring. He smiled, wondering how many of them were also knights, and how he was now one of them.

One particular fighter caught his eye. Not necessarily because of their skill, which was impressive, but more because of the armor they wore. It was bronze-colored rather than the iron most of Westeros wore. It seemed light, as the bearer moved quickly and nimbly. He chalked it up to the fact that the man was much smaller than everyone else.

The helmet had been molded into a face, almost like a smiling sun, with open eyeholes and delicately formed around the mouth and chin enough to allow the wearer to breathe and move their neck easily. Galladon had never seen a suit of armor quite like it. The bronze fighter noticed Galladon staring and stopped and stared back, giving him a slight nod. Galladon snapped out from his thoughts and nodded back, looking away hurriedly.

Deston finished his conversation and motioned to Galladon.

“You ready, _Ser_ Galladon?” He beamed him his warm smile while emphasizing his new title. Galladon nodded and smiled back.

“Indeed, _Ser_ Deston.” They walked to an unoccupied spot in the yard and squared off against each other.

They went several rounds, with Deston coming out the victor more often than Galladon. Deston ended each bout by offering Galladon friendly advice on how to approach opponents differently. Galladon smiled and accepted each tidbit with grace and humility, finding he had more and more respect for Deston as each moment passed. He genuinely liked the man, and found himself wanting to eat up any help and constructive criticism from him that he could get, somewhat surprised he wasn’t bothered by it.

What he _was_ bothered by was the way the bronze-armored fighter kept watching him. After each bout he fought, the fighter would stop and stand quietly and motionlessly watching Galladon fight against Deston. When they finished each round Galladon would immediately seek the bronze fighter out with his eyes and each time he found them staring back…almost like a predator sizing up its prey. Galladon found it unnerving.

He and Deston went on sparring for about another half an hour before stopping for a break. They walked over to one of the benches lining the training yard and sat down, drinking deeply from their water skins and recapping their fights.

“You definitely give me a good workout,” Deston chuckled, pouring a bit of water over his dark hair. He sat forward and rested his forearms on his thighs, watching the water drip from his hair onto the ground in front of him.

Galladon laughed as he poured a bit of water over his hands and then rubbed them over his face. Reaching for a towel he wiped it over his face, relishing the feeling of the cool air on his now-clean skin.

“I can’t thank you enough,” he said to Deston. “It’s very helpful to test myself against you and to have your counsel.” He looked over towards the bronze fighter again. “Deston, do you know who that is?” He made a motion towards the fighter with his head.

Deston followed Galladon’s gaze. “No, can’t say that I do,” he narrowed his eyes. “Interesting armor, though.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Galladon said. The bronze fighter looked over at them and they both looked hurriedly away.

They sat there for a while as different fighters sporadically came up to them, to congratulate Deston on his tourney win, Galladon on his knighting, or both. Finally Deston stretched his arms over his head and stood up.

“If you will excuse me for a few moments, I need to uh…relieve myself,” he blushed sheepishly. Galladon laughed.

“It’s fine, I’ll be here.”

Deston walked off and disappeared inside the Keep. Galladon took the quiet moment to lie down on the bench and close his eyes, letting the sun warm his face. He stayed there for several moments until a shadow fell across him and the light behind his closed eyelids dimmed. Galladon cracked an eye open to see the bronze fighter standing over him, silently looking down.

Galladon remained still, not really sure what to say. He waited to see if the bronzed mystery would speak, but they did not. Galladon slowly sat up, not taking his eyes off the sun helmet.

“Hello,” he said evenly. “I…uh…noticed your armor earlier,” he fumbled for what to say. “It’s very…um…unique.”

With the fighter standing right in front of him, Galladon noticed he was even smaller than he appeared from across the yard. He estimated that if he stood up, the bronzed one would just barely come up to his chest. They sat quietly staring at one another until Galladon started to squirm, feeling uncomfortable under the scrutiny. At this close proximity, he was able to study both the armor and the weapons of the silent warrior. They carried a short sword that was a tad thinner than a normal one. In the other hand they held a dagger. Both of the weapons had bronzed hilts and upon closer inspection, Galladon guessed they were a matching set, and a rather elegant one at that. Whoever had smithed them was extremely talented. The only blades that Galladon had ever seen that came even close to these were his parents’ swords.

“Um, my name is Galladon,” he said, waiting for the bronze man to respond. When he didn’t, Galladon added “is there something I can help you with?” in a more annoyed tone.

The small fighter took a step back and gestured with the short sword towards the center of the sparring yard. Galladon lifted the corner of his mouth in a smirk.

“A challenge then? Very well, it seems I can’t get you to speak otherwise,” he taunted the man. Standing up off the bench, he realized he had been right…the fighter was just over half his own height. Galladon took one more long look. “You’re sure about this?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow. The fighter merely gestured again with his sword.

Galladon shrugged. “Alright then, let’s see…” he opted to not use his shield and instead picked up Deston’s tourney sword off the bench, pairing it with his own sword, so that they were more evenly matched. “Right…two weapons against two weapons,” he said, banging his two swords together. “After you.”

The bronze fighter turned and walked to an open spot and turned back to face Galladon. Taking a defensive stance, he raised both weapons and waited. Galladon smiled and shook his head. “Alright then.”

He attacked first, and the bronze fighter easily and nimbly avoided his every swing. Each time Galladon went on the offensive, his opponent gracefully and quickly made him look a clumsy fool. They spun and danced around him, and Galladon could see that their armor was not only elegant but also light and functional.

He grew increasingly frustrated that he couldn’t seem to land a blow on the small flitting nuisance that was making him suddenly feel unworthy of his new title. Other pairs of fighters around them had stopped and were now focused on the frenzied battle between Galladon and his annoying foe.

Galladon kept spinning and swiping at the bronze man, and each time the bronze man jumped safely away or blocked his blows. Galladon actually started getting angry and that’s when he lost his concentration. The bronze man spun and dropped to scramble through Galladon’s legs, and when Galladon went to chase him, he lost his balance and fell over onto his back. He went to roll over to grab his opponent’s ankle in an attempt to trip him as well, but before he could move, the bronze fighter was suddenly atop him, straddling his hips and holding his dagger at Galladon’s throat. The spectators all chuckled and applauded and eventually dispersed and went about their business.

“Do you yield?”

Galladon was panting so heavily he wasn’t sure if he had heard the bronze fighter finally speak. He was still laying on the ground with the small man sitting on him. He raised himself up on his elbows and cocked his head and one eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you yield?”

The voice was quiet and lighter than he expected, and Galladon drew his brows together in confusion. He remained still, closely studying the person on top of him.

_No. There’s no way that that’s….a…_

The bronze fighter heaved an annoyed sigh and sat straight up. Laying the dagger on Galladon’s chest, they reached up and hooked their fingers under the edge of their helmet and slowly lifted it from their head.

_Girl…_

The smiling sun helmet came off, and coal black waves of long hair cascaded free, spilling down past shoulders and chest, looking beautifully wild and unkempt after having been stuck in the helmet for so long. Dark thick eyebrows sat over a pair of eyes so pale grey that Galladon had never seen their like before. His jaw dropped open and his eyes grew wider.

“You…you’re a…you…”

“I’m a girl, yes, well spotted,” she said. “And I believe I asked you a question.” She raised an eyebrow along with the corner of her mouth. Galladon was lost.

“I…a question…?” His voice trailed off and all he could do was stare dumbfounded at this heavenly feral creature perched atop his loins.

_She’s…she’s…exquisite._

She slowly leaned down and lay on his chest, bringing her face close to his.

“Do…you…yield?” She whispered, inches from his nose.

Galladon shivered inside his armor, suddenly sweating even more, and it wasn’t from the exertion.

_Her eyes are like a winter sky right before it snows._

“Yield…” he whispered, staring intently into the girl’s grey eyes. “I…uh…yield, yes, I yield.” He suddenly came back to himself as the girl stood up and leaned down to pick up her helmet. Galladon found he was sad at the sudden loss of her weight on him.

“You’re slow,” she said, looking down at him. “And you drop your right arm when you swing.” She said matter-of-factly as she pulled her gloves off and tucked them into her sword belt, along with returning her sword and dagger to their sheaths. Now that Galladon could see their hilts, he noted that the sword’s was carved in the shape of a stag and the dagger’s was in the shape of a wolf.

“It’s been a pleasure,” the girl said, and began to walk off.

_No, no, no…don’t leave._

“Wait!” Galladon reached out and sat up. He looked at her wonder. “What’s your name?”

The girl turned back and let her eyes roam over his form. Galladon felt suddenly shy under her gaze. Looking him in the eyes, she smiled.

“No one.”

Galladon scrunched up his face in question. “That’s a rather odd name.”

The girl suddenly started laughing. “Sorry, that’s just a joke I share with my mother.” She walked forward and offered him a hand to stand up. “I’m Nymeria.”

Galladon stood up, never taking his eyes off her. “Nymeria…like the warrior goddess?”

Nymeria nodded. “The very same.”

Galladon suddenly brightened. “I’m Galladon, I’m named after a famous warrior too.”

_Ugh, I sound like a green boy._

Nymeria smirked. “I know who you are.” She turned and walked away towards the bench Galladon had been laying on where she had found him earlier. Galladon trailed after her like an obedient puppy.

“Where did you get your armor? I’ve never seen its equal before,” he said, catching up with her in two strides.

“It was made in Essos,” Nymeria responded. “In Braavos to be more exact.”

“My sister Arianne would love to see it. She’s obsessed with all things Essos,” Galladon chuckled nervously. He pointed at her weapons. “And those? Those are quite beautiful, are those from Essos as well?”

Nymeria looked down at the blades resting at her hips and smiled. The sight took Galladon’s breath away.

“No. These…these my father made for me,” she said quietly, filled with pride.

“Wow, he’s very talented.”

Nymeria pulled the dagger from its sheath and handed it to Galladon hilt first. “Be my guest.”

He took it gently from her and turned it over in his hand. The artistry was second to none. The hilt was a bronze wolf with delicate wire wrapping around its body in an intricate design, almost as if it were prowling through vines, stalking its prey.

He returned the dagger to her and sat down on the bench to take a closer look at her sword at eye level. This hilt was in the shape of a rearing stag, also with the same wirework around it. The crosshilt had wolves’ heads at either end. Galladon looked up at her.

“Beautiful my lady…” his voice came out huskier than he intended. When Nymeria raised her eyebrows and smirked at him, Galladon quickly coughed and looked down again. “I, uh…your weapons remind me of my parents’ swords,” he gestured at her blades again. “They have similar delicate designs in the, um…small wires.”

Galladon was reaching for things to say just to keep the conversation going…just to keep her there. He was quite pleasantly surprised when she sat down next to him.

“I know, I’ve seen them,” she smiled again. Galladon startled at that.

“You…you know my parents? You’ve seen their swords?”

Nymeria laughed and Galladon thought it the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“Yes, Galladon, I do, they are quite close to my parents, or have you forgotten already?”

Galladon’s face fell into a mask of confusion that Nymeria actually found endearing. “Your…who are your parents?”

“I would have thought the stag and the wolf would have given it away,” she said, fixing him with her grey eyes. “I’m Nymeria _Baratheon_…Arya and Gendry’s daughter.”

Galladon’s eyes snapped open when it finally registered. “You’re Auntie Arya and Uncle Gendry’s daughter?! How…but…how did I not recognize you?”

“The last we saw each other we were practically babies,” Nymeria said. “I wouldn’t expect you to recognize me,” she laughed again.

“But you knew who I was.”

“I did,” she looked up at him from under thick dark lashes. Galladon swallowed heavily. “Word travels fast. Plus my mother filled me in on all of the news from the tourney yesterday,” she teased him.

“Oh,” Galladon blushed.

At that moment Deston returned. “Sorry about that Galladon, I keep being stopped by people who wish to offer their congratulations on the tourney yesterday.”

Galladon had to force himself to look away from Nymeria.

“Oh, that’s alright, I don’t mind.”

Deston looked at Nymeria and offered her a kind smile. “So I see,” he bowed and reached for Nymeria’s hand. “Ser Deston Blackwood, my lady.” He kissed her hand and released it, standing up straight again.

“Lady Nymeria Baratheon,” she responded, standing up to bow herself. Galladon stared wistfully at her. Deston suppressed a chuckle.

“Ser Deston!” They all turned to see Ser Ashtin striding across the yard. Deston straightened up and bowed before the Kingsguardsman.

“At your service, good Ser.”

Ashtin bowed in return. “The Lord Commander has requested an audience with you in her office, if it pleases you.”

“Uh oh, you’re in trouble with Ser Mumma,” Galladon said, snickering quietly. Deston turned and smirked at him.

“Then I shall take my punishment gladly,” he turned back to Ashtin. “I would be honored to attend her, however I don’t know where to go,” he laughed again.

“That is why I am here to escort you,” Ashtin said, returning the smile. Deston turned to Galladon.

“Would you mind taking care of the equipment? I don’t wish to keep your mother waiting.”

“Of course.”

Deston and Ashtin left the yard. Nymeria looked up and judged the sun’s position in the sky.

“Well, I better go and clean up before supper,” she said, standing up off the bench. Galladon scrambled to his feet.

“When will I see you again, my lady?”

_Gods, why would you say that? You’ve just met her!_

Nymeria tossed her thick black hair and looked him up and down, smiling. For the first time, Galladon didn’t care that he was being ogled.

“At supper I would imagine,” she chuckled. “We’re all eating together tonight I believe.”

_Oh thank the gods._

“Oh…well…until then, my lady,” he bowed, and brought his eyes to the level of hers. Staring directly into them this closely, he found he could no longer speak or move. Nymeria spoke for him.

“Until then…Ser Galladon.”

She gave him one more smirk and turned to walk out of the training yard. Galladon slowly straightened up and watched her walk away, completely frozen in place by the sight of her.

“Nymeria…” he whispered to himself, savoring the sound of her name on his lips.

His heart was no longer his own. And he knew it.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deston poked his head in Brienne’s office door. “You wished to see me, Lord Commander?”

Brienne put her quill down and turned to offer him her bright smile. “Yes! Please, please, come in Ser Deston.” She waved him over to the table. She stood up to greet him as he walked over, beaming his warm smile. He stopped in front of her, bowed and took her hand to kiss it.

“My lady Ser.”

Brienne blushed and gestured at a chair. “Please, sit.” Deston obeyed. Looking across the table at Brienne, his eyes were drawn to the sapphire necklace at her throat.

“That is quite a lovely stone, my lady Ser."

Brienne brought her hand up to it. "Thank you, it was a gift from Jaime. He had it made in Pentos," she smiled proudly.

"So, to what do I owe this great honor?” Deston said, still smiling.

“How are you getting on since yesterday? You’re quite the talk of the Keep,” Brienne began.

Deston flushed a bit at that and looked at his hands. “You flatter me, my lady Ser.”

Brienne laughed. “It’s true! I’ve heard your name spoken all around today, which is one of the reasons I’ve asked you here. You had mentioned you were looking to remain here in King’s Landing and hopefully make your life here.”

Deston nodded. “Yes, my lady Ser, I am.”

Brienne leaned her forearms on the table and laced her fingers together. “Tell me, are you your father’s heir?”

Deston shook his head. “No, my lady Ser, I am his third son actually, so that is well covered,” he chuckled a bit. “That’s one of the reasons I wish to stay here. Back home I really have no purpose. My family are good and kind people, but I want to make my own place in the world, and I feel I can do more good here than wasting away in the Riverlands where it’s relatively quiet now.”

“How old are you?”

“Three and twenty.”

Brienne nodded and smiled at him. “Well, I have an offer for you that may aid you in your quest, good Ser.”

Deston perked up and leaned forward to rest his arms on the table as well. “I’d love to hear it.” He grinned. Brienne really did find him utterly handsome and charming, and most importantly…she was an extremely good judge of honor in a person, and she saw it in Deston in spades.

“His Grace…and everyone else it seems,” Brienne let out a quick laugh at that, “was rather impressed with you yesterday, both in your skill and the way you comported yourself to others. Because of this, he has authorized me and asked if I would offer you a position in his Kingsguard on his behalf.”

Deston’s eyes flew wide and his mouth came slightly open. Brienne watched his face as he processed what she had just told him, and she tried not to giggle. Deston seemed to have lost his power of speech so Brienne continued.

“You would get a decent wage, rooms here in the White Tower, all your meals, a suit of Kingsguard armor and everything that goes with it.”

Deston’s mouth dropped open further.

“You can have some time to think it over if you—“

“Uh no, no, my lady Ser,” he said hurriedly. “That would be most generous and most welcome. I humbly accept.” Deston burst into a huge grin and laughed with joy. “What an honor.”

“Excellent,” Brienne said, reaching over to grasp forearms with Deston. “Let’s see about getting you settled and finding you a suite of rooms. I’m sure you’re tired of inn lodgings. Do you have much gear to move?”

“No commander,” Deston smiled, using Brienne’s other title. “I only brought what I could fit in my saddlebags, which are presently with my horse in the stable.”

Brienne stood up and Deston followed suit, jumping up after her.

“Come with me and I will assign you quarters, and then we need to get your fitted and outfitted in your armor before the feast tomorrow night,” Brienne said. “And welcome to the family, Ser Deston.”

Deston thought he would burst with happiness, his honey-mead eyes sparkling. “Thank you, commander, I very much look forward to serving.”

Brienne laughed and gave him a wink. “Wait a week or so and then see if you feel the same.”


	11. The Feast, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The grand feast of Bran's celebrations has finally arrived! This will be a 3-4 chapter long event, as there is LOTS to cover. Enjoy!

Brienne finished lacing up the front of her dress for the feast. Looking at herself in the mirror, her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. It was an extremely rare occasion that she wore a dress at all, much less one that showed so much of her.

The laces were designed to be tight across her chest, pushing her breasts together and up so that they swelled over the bodice. Brienne kept looking back and forth between her chest and its reflection in the mirror, totally gobsmacked.

The dress was made from the crimson velvet that Selwyn and Davos had brought back from Gulltown several weeks ago. The skirt flared out from under her breasts, not fitted to her waist. The front of the skirt was split, showing her cream silken underdress. The sleeves were fitted to her elbows and then opened up, flowing down to the bottom of the dress.

Golden lions were embroidered all along the edges of the velvet, and where Brienne’s sapphire necklace normally hung just below her collarbones, it now fit snugly into the top of her very enhanced cleavage.

She let out a sigh as Jaime came back in the room from the privy, attempting to adjust his cream silken cravat. He was also dressed in the crimson velvet with the golden lion embroidery, only his was a long-tailed coat with a high collar that held the aforementioned cravat in place. Black breeches and black boots finished off his ensemble. His golden and silver hair was brushed back and his beard had been neatly trimmed.

“Bree, love, can you help me with this bloody thing…I can’t…seem…to…” Jaime’s voice broke off when Brienne turned to face him. He stood there gaping at her, his eyes running up and down her body and finally settling on her rather exposed chest area. Brienne flushed and lowered her eyes.

“Say something, Jaime, you’re making me nervous,” Brienne chuckled. “It’s a little…um…revealing,” she gestured at her chest.

Jaime said nothing, he just walked forward until he stood in front of her. His eyes roamed all over her and he raised his hand and stump to cup the outside of her breasts.

“Jaime…that’s not helping,” Brienne rolled her eyes.

“You look…wow…” he was still staring at her breasts. He leaned forward and stuck his nose in her cleavage and began kissing her there. Brienne squeaked in surprise.

“Jaime!” She laughed as his beard tickled her soft skin. “What are you doing?”

“I would think it would be perfectly obvious,” his muffled voice came from her chest as he pawed at her with his hand.

Brienne placed her hands on his chest and pushed him backwards, giving him an admonishing look but smiling at him nonetheless. Jaime pouted at having his fun taken away.

“You’ll muss me all up before the feast, you loon.”

“Do we have to go? I’d much rather stay here and do naughty things to you.”

“_Yes,_ Jaime, we have to go,” Brienne laughed. “I am Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and on top of that our daughter is singing tonight, we need to support her.”

Jaime heaved a sigh. “Oh, alright, if we _must,_” he winked at her. He then went back to fiddling with his cravat. “Can you help me with this?”

Brienne took the cravat from him and pulled him to her. “Only if you keep your hand to yourself,” she smirked at him and kissed the tip of his nose. He pouted at her as she began to fiddle with his collar, stuffing the cravat into it and arranging it artfully. Finally she laughed. “You look pathetic,” she ran the tip of her index finger across Jaime’s pouty bottom lip. “When we get back here late tonight, you can have your way with me like always,” she gave him a seductive stare.

Jaime’s face immediately brightened and he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Alright,” he grinned. Brienne finished with his cravat and then stood back.

“Let me look at you,” she eyed him up and down as Jaime stood back and did a slow turn for her. She laughed and reached for his hand, pulling him close again. “You look sinfully handsome,” she said in a gravely tone. “Maybe I’ll have _my_ way with _you_ instead.”

“I am yours to violate completely, my lady,” Jaime smiled and kissed her hard on the mouth.

They were rudely interrupted by a knock on their door. Before waiting to be admitted, Selwyn and Galladon burst into the room, each waving their own cravats in the air.

They were both dressed in the same outfit Jaime was. Galladon’s luscious curls were brushed back and flowed to right below his collar. Selwyn’s curls were unruly as ever, prompting Brienne to click her tongue at him and walk to him to run her fingers through his hair in an attempt to style it.

“Mum, how the heck do you tie these stupid things?” Selwyn said, letting his mother fuss over his hair.

“Yes, we’ve been trying for a half an hour to figure them out,” Galladon added, making a face at the offending piece of silk.

Brienne started with Selwyn’s, tucking it in the collar of his coat and arranging it as she had done Jaime’s. When she was done she moved to Galladon.

“You boys both look very handsome,” she said as she fiddled with Galladon’s cravat. When she was done she stood back, smiled and sighed lovingly, drinking in the sight of all three of them. “My Lannister men,” she gushed proudly.

Galladon was almost Jaime’s height and Selwyn was just shy of Galladon’s. The three of them together in their crimson velvet long coats with their hair fixed neatly (Selwyn’s as best as could be expected) and their sharp jawlines all accented by their cravats, they were quite the sight to behold.

Selwyn couldn’t help but look at his mother’s dress. “Believe me Mum, no one will be looking at us with you in _that_ dress,” he put his hand up to his mouth and laughed into it. Jaime turned and scowled at him and gave him a swat on the back of the head.

“Don’t disrespect your mother,” he said. Selwyn kept chuckling. “And don’t you _dare_ mock her,” Jaime growled threateningly.

“I’m sorry Papa,” Selwyn turned to him and put his hands up in defense, shrinking away from his father, suddenly afraid. “I’m not mocking her, I would never dream of that. I’ve just never seen her in something so…” he waved his hand in the direction of Brienne’s chest. “So…”

Brienne put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at her son. “So _what,_ exactly?”

Jaime walked to her in an attempt to diffuse the situation. “So utterly captivating,” he took her hand and brought it to his lips. He turned his head back to give Selwyn another disapproving look.

“I meant no offense, Mum,” Selwyn said. “It’s just not your normal style, that’s all.”

Galladon stepped forward to kiss Brienne on the cheek. “I think you look beautiful, Ser Mumma.”

The littlest Lannister man suddenly appeared in the doorway, dressed just like his brothers and his father, and also holding his cravat in his hand. Brienne gasped and clapped her hands together.

“Now _here_ is a handsome gentleman and a _respectful_ one,” she said as she walked past Selwyn. She walked over to Arthur and knelt down to look at him. She reached out and attempted to smooth his curls down as well. “Look at you! You look very nice.”

Arthur blushed and looked up at his mother from underneath his pale blonde lashes. “Thank you, Mumma,” he said softly. He held up the piece of silk. “I don’t know what this is.”

Brienne took his hand and led him over to the hearth where she sat down and positioned him in front of her. “Don’t worry my little love, I’ll help you.”

Brynna entered next, with Alysanne and Arianne clinging to each of her hands.

“Hello, hello,” she sang as she came in. “My goodness what a bunch of handsome men!” Brynna’s jaw dropped as she saw Brienne. “Mumma, you look amazing!”

The girls’ dresses weren’t as exposing as Brienne’s. They were the same velvet with the golden lions, but their dresses were fitted to the waist with more of a scooped neckline that wasn’t nearly as revealing as their mother’s. The skirts all split in the front to show the cream silk underskirts like Brienne’s, however.

Jaime held out his hand to Brynna and she walked to him. He bowed to her and kissed her hand. “You look beautiful, my darling.”

“Thank you, Papa,” she plucked at her sleeves. They weren’t fitted like the others so that she was able to play her harp freely without constraint. They flowed loosely down to the bottom of the dress like others, however. Galladon stepped to her and pulled her into a one-armed hug, kissing her on the forehead.

“You really do, sister.”

As Jaime turned to fawn over the twins, Brynna pulled Galladon aside and whispered conspiratorially with him.

“Did you ask her?”

“I’m on my way to do that now,” Galladon answered her. “I hope she’ll let me escort her this evening.”

“Are you kidding, brother?” Brynna said, looking him up and down. “One look at you and she won’t be able to refuse,” she smiled up at him. Galladon wrung his hands nervously.

“I’m so nervous,” he whispered back to her. Brynna could do nothing but smile at her brother.

“I told you it would happen someday, didn’t I?”

“And nothing in the world could have prepared me for _her,_” Galladon said wistfully. “She’s everything.”

Brynna stood on tiptoes to kiss Galladon on the cheek. “Well, good luck, I have to run and make sure everything is set up. I’ll see you all there!” She blew everyone a kiss and floated out the door.

Alysanne and Arianne had done each other’s hair in elaborate braids and buns, with tendrils of hair falling about their faces. They were dressed in miniature versions of Brynna’s dress only their sleeves were fitted to the elbow like Brienne’s.

“Mumma, can we do your hair?” Alysanne asked.

Brienne’s hair was softly cascading over her shoulders but not in any particular style.

“As long as you make it quick, my darlings, we have to get down to the feast.”

She had finished with Arthur’s cravat and then hugged him to her. He wiggled around in her grasp as she kissed him all over his face. Arthur eventually squirmed away and went over to Jaime, putting his arms around his father’s waist and shyly hiding his face against Jaime’s stomach. Jaime reached down to stroke his son’s curls.

Galladon took a deep breath and coughed. “If you will all please excuse me, I am off to see if I can convince a certain lady to allow me to be her escort this evening.”

Brienne and Jaime both started at that, their eyes wide as they looked over at him. Galladon grinned and made hurriedly for the door.

“Hold on there,” Brienne said, standing up and walking over to him. Alysanne and Arianne groaned as they were only halfway done with her hair. “What is this all about, sweetling?”

Galladon flushed and smiled, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet. “Nothing, Ser Mumma, there’s just someone I’d like to ask to accompany me to the feast.”

Selwyn snickered. “Since when?”

Galladon glared at him. “Since yesterday, not that it’s any of your concern.”

Brienne scowled at Selwyn before looking back at her eldest son. “And who is this lucky young lady?”

Galladon stood up straight and puffed out his chest slightly. Taking a shaky deep breath he looked his mother in the eye. “Nymeria Baratheon.”

Brienne raised her eyebrows and smiled and reached out to tuck a lock of Galladon’s hair behind his ear. “Well my goodness,” she said softly. She straightened his collar and ran her hands down the front of his coat, dusting him off. “She’ll be very lucky to have you as an escort.”

“Thank you, Ser Mumma,” he kissed her on the cheek and ran out the door.

“Mumma, sit down, we weren’t finished,” Arianne whined.

“Oh, I’m sorry, my darlings,” Brienne rushed back over to them and sat down again. The twins fussed over her for another ten minutes or so until they were finally finished. They had given her a simple braid that circled the back of her head, and then tucked up the rest of the sections that were hanging loose into it. They framed her face with a few tendrils, as well as a few at the back of her neck.

“There, Mumma, all done,” Alysanne flounced around her like an excited puppy. “Doesn’t she look beautiful, Papa?”

Jaime smiled and nodded. “Indeed she does, sweetling,” he said softly, drinking Brienne in with his eyes.

“Come on, you two, let’s get downstairs,” Selwyn said to the twins. Arthur detached himself from Jaime and stood quietly next to him, slipping his hand into his father’s, waiting for his lead. Jaime offered Brienne his right arm, and she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. He leaned close to whisper in her ear.

“As if your breasts weren’t enough, now your neck is exposed? I shall have a rather difficult time behaving myself tonight.”

Brienne blushed and nudged him with her shoulder. “Patience, my love, patience.”

“Bree, you and I both know that’s not exactly my strong suit.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joanna stood outside of Bran’s chamber door, waiting for his attendants to finish bathing and dressing him. She had taken special care to polish her armor so it gleamed, and her gold and crimson Lannister cloak hung from her shoulders, since Bran had instructed the Kingsguard be allowed to wear their house colors and sigils with pride tonight.

After several minutes, the door opened and his attendants exited, letting her know that Bran was presentable. Joanna thanked them and slipped inside, closing the door behind her. Turning to look at him, her breath suddenly stopped in her chest.

He was dressed in a black velvet doublet with raven wing epaulets on his shoulders. The sleeves were split, showing light grey satin underneath, in deference to House Stark. There were also direwolf sigils on each breast of his jacket. Bran usually didn’t like wearing a crown, but with it being such an important occasion, he opted for a simple circlet of gold with a raven’s visage at his forehead. Across his lap was a throw of sumptuous grey fur, covering his legs.

Joanna smiled and sighed. “How fine you look. You look like the King in the North.”

Bran chuckled. “Don’t let my sister hear you say that,” he held out his hand. “Come here.”

Joanna walked to him and slipped her hand in his. Before she realized what was happening, he pulled her onto his lap and slipped his arms around her waist. Joanna gasped and tried to wriggle free.

“Bran, I’ll crush you in this armor! Not to mention mess up your fine outfit.”

Her struggling only made him hold her tighter.

“Hush, my darling,” he whispered to her. He stroked one of her hands…the only exposed flesh on her body at the moment except for her head. “I wanted to apologize.”

Joanna looked quizzically at him. “Whatever for?”

“I feel like we’ve hardly seen each other since all these bloody celebrations started.”

“Don’t be silly, my love, we see each other every day,” Joanna giggled.

“You know what I mean,” Bran said, raising her hand to his lips and kissing it softly.

Joanna brought her other hand up to stroke his cheek. “Not to worry, my darling, things will go back to normal soon.”

“My sisters will be staying on here for at least a month. We haven’t all been together in quite a while and we need the time. I’m hoping they can help me,” his voice trailed off.

Joanna took his hand in both of hers and gently stroked it. “I’m sure they can. Family is important…no one knows you better than they do.”

Bran nodded and stared at their hands. “Who would have ever thought I would love a Lannister,” he chuckled softly.

“What does that mean?” Joanna asked, her face confused. Bran looked up at her and smiled.

“Nothing, shall we go and face the masses?”

Joanna nodded, a concerned crease still between her brows. Bran pulled her down to him so he could kiss her softly.

“If you need a break at any point tonight, don’t keep it from me, I want to know.”

Joanna nodded. “Alright.” She stood up off his lap, kissed him once more and then moved behind him to push his chair out into the hallway. In the back of her mind however, was worry over what Bran had meant by that casual remark.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Galladon paced back and forth in front of the door to the rooms that had been given to the Baratheon family. He had been outside their door for ten minutes trying to work up the courage to just knock. He stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath.

“Come on, Galladon,” he muttered to himself. “You can do this, you’re just asking her to sit by you…and talk to you…and pay attention to no one but you…and love you…” he rolled his eyes at himself.

At that moment the door flew open and he froze, his eyes wide and his mouth open. Staring back at him with her hand on her hip stood Nymeria. She cocked her head and raised an eyebrow at him.

“You think very loudly,” she teased him. “It’s a wonder the entire tower didn’t hear you.”

She was dressed in a black velvet gown with bright yellow silk undersleeves and lining…House Baratheon colors. Her long black hair was done in a loosely pinned style with direwolf hair decorations in back. Galladon once again found himself speechless.

“Hello, Nymeria. I…uh…was wondering…” he coughed and tried to compose himself, but looking into her eyes he became flustered again.

“You were wondering?” Nymeria said, her lips curving up slightly.

“Hello, Galladon,” Arya walked by, fussing with the sleeve of her long-tailed coat that looked much like his, only it was black velvet with the yellow accents like her daughter’s dress. Galladon straightened up.

“Hello, Auntie Arya,” he said, grateful for the distraction.

“What brings you here?” Arya said, smirking at him in a way that looked just like her daughter.

“He was wondering something, Mumma,” Nymeria said, winking at Galladon. He felt his heart flutter.

“I…yes…I was wondering if…if Nymeria would allow me to escort her to the feast this evening,” he blushed and looked at his feet.

“Oh, what a sweet idea!” Arya said, assuming his intentions were of innocent friendship and familial ties. “Go on, darling, we’ll be right behind you.”

Gendry entered the room, resplendent in black leather with a large stag head brooch fastening his Baratheon cloak over one shoulder.

“Ah! Evening Galladon,” he walked to Arya and held out his arms. “How do I look?”

Arya walked to him and ran her hands up the front of his leather coat. “Like a proper lord, who would have believed it?” she laughed and kissed him.

“Well there you have it,” Nymeria said to Galladon. “Mumma says it’s a sweet idea, so I suppose I better accompany you,” she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, her touch sending jolts through Galladon’s body.

He gasped softly and trembled under her hand. “It will be my honor, my lady,” Galladon said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You…you’re…so…”

“Right, let’s go, shall we?” Gendry interrupted them, making Galladon jump slightly. Nymeria snickered and gripped his arm tighter.

“Come on, Golden Boy,” she teased him. “And if what I hear around the Keep is true, I’m going to have to protect your maidenhead from all of the ladies who wish to steal it from you.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The feast hall was bustling and packed full with all of the visiting Westerosi nobility and other attendees. Arthur clung to Jaime’s hand as they made their way to the seats, his face pressed up against Jaime’s arm so that only one eye peeked out at all of the people around the hall. Arthur much preferred the controlled chaos of the training yard to a room crowded full with people. Sensing his son’s discomfort, Jaime gently pulled Arthur in front of him, shielding him with his body where he was able to put both his hand and his stump protectively on Arthur’s shoulders.

Joanna had just finished getting Bran situated at the head of one of the long tables lining the hall when the rest of her family arrived. She smiled wide when she saw them all in their matching garb.

“You all look wonderful,” she said affectionately, embracing Alysanne and Arianne in each arm. She then turned to show off her new cloak that had been made from the same velvet. A large golden lion was embroidered in the center. “I, too, am representing House Lannister proudly.”

Brienne smiled and hugged her eldest daughter. “I’m sorry you have to be on duty tonight.”

“I’m not, Mumma,” Joanna replied, sneaking a smile at Bran. “The rest of the Kingsguard are all on duty as well…except you, that is.”

“I’m old, Joanna,” Brienne giggled. “I’m allowed certain privileges.”

“Good evening, family,” Tyrion suddenly appeared at Joanna’s side. He was also dressed the same as the rest of the Lannister men. Sansa was with him, dressed in the same dress she had been crowned in all those years ago. It remained one of her favorites to this day.

“Uncle Tyrion!” Joanna exclaimed. “How fine you look this evening.” She fixed him with a brilliant smile. She then leaned forward to kiss Sansa on the cheek. “Auntie Sansa, you look gorgeous.”

“Thank you, sweetling,” Sansa replied, taking her seat on one side of Bran. “It’s a rather old dress, but it has very special meaning to me.”

Arya and Gendry arrived next, exchanging greetings before Arya sat down on Bran’s other side, with Gendry sitting next to her. Tyrion sat next to Sansa.

Galladon and Nymeria lagged a bit behind, the little she-wolf still holding onto his arm. Galladon’s face beamed with male pride and as he looked around, he noticed the usual group of ladies staring and whispering, throwing Nymeria some rather nasty looks. He noted that Lannia Fossoway looked particularly angry as he leaned down to whisper to Nymeria.

“It looks like we’re not very popular at the moment,” he muttered. “Gods, I wish they’d leave me alone.”

Nymeria glanced slyly up at him and tightened her grip on his arm. “Oh, is that so? Hmm that’s too bad. Watch and learn, Golden Boy.”

Galladon knew he should be annoyed with the new nickname she seemed to have given him, but coming from her, he found it arousing.

Rubbing her other hand up Galladon’s bicep, she looked over at the group of envious women and gave them her brightest smile and a friendly wave of her hand. Many of the ladies startled and looked away, except for Lannia who looked as if she were about to explode. Galladon almost choked at Nymeria’s boldness and quickly steered her away towards their families.

“You’re not going to make many friends that way,” Galladon laughed.

“They’re not my type anyway,” Nymeria quipped.

_You really are something else._

Galladon walked her over to sit next to Gendry. Once she settled herself next to her father, Galladon remained standing, not really sure what he should do. After a few moments Nymeria looked up at him and gestured to the place on the bench next to her.

“Well?”

Galladon brightened. “You…you want me to sit with you?”

Nymeria rolled her eyes and huffed. “That is what an escort does, yes?”

Galladon didn’t have to be told twice. He smiled and quickly sat down next to her. Nymeria shook her head and chuckled.

Alysanne suddenly appeared on his other side, with Arianne taking her place next to her twin as usual. Finally, Selwyn sat on the other side of Arianne, with the four Lannister siblings making a wall of crimson next to the Baratheon family’s black velvet.

Across the table, Brienne sat next to Tyrion with Jaime on her other side and little Arthur next to him. Jaime knew Arthur was out of his element and wanted to make sure he was near him. However, Arthur suddenly brightened and smiled as his best friend Garrad Payne ran up to the table and sat down next to him.

“Hi Arthur!” Garrad said, putting an arm around his friend’s shoulders.

“Hi Garrad,” Arthur said quietly. “I’m glad you’re here.” Jaime smiled and leaned down to kiss Arthur on his head.

Podrick’s wife, Sosan, caught up with her son, holding Young Brienne’s hand. She greeted the Lannister brood before seating herself and her daughter next to Garrad.

“Well, well, this is a fine looking bunch!” Davos said as he slid onto the bench next to Selwyn. Selwyn smiled and turned to clap Davos on the shoulder.

“Thank the gods,” he said. “Someone who I can talk to.”

“Davos, darling, where is your wife?” Brienne asked from across the table.

“She had to return home for a few weeks to help our sons with a few things,” Davos replied. “Not to worry, she’ll be back.”

Sam, Gilly, Little Sam, who at four and twenty wasn’t so little anymore, and their daughter arrived and sat themselves next to Podrick’s family. In keeping a promise to Jon Snow, Sam and Gilly, while not being able to name their daughter after him, had called her Joan instead in tribute to Sam’s dear friend.

Brynna suddenly ran up behind Galladon and hugged him around the shoulders. Surprised, he looked up and when he saw who it was, he took one of her hands and kissed it.

“Well, sister, finally come to mingle with the commoners?” He teased her. She playfully swatted him on the chest.

“Oh, hush, I just wanted to make sure everything was perfect for tonight, so I’ve kept myself locked away with the other musicians.”

Straightening up she held out her hand to Nymeria.

“You must be Lady Nymeria,” she said sweetly, her smile warm. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to properly meet you until now, I’ve been rather preoccupied these past few days.”

Nymeria shook Brynna’s hand and returned the smile. “A pleasure, Lady Brynna, I’ve heard quite a lot about you.”

Brynna nudged her brother. “You weren’t kidding, Gall, she’s absolutely stunning.”

Galladon flushed three shades of pink and gave his sister a scathing look. Brynna giggled and leaned down to whisper in Nymeria’s ear.

“Go easy on him, he’s fragile and skittish.”

_“Brynna!”_ Galladon spat through clenched teeth. Nymeria broke out laughing.

“I’ve already told him I’d protect his maidenhead from the vultures,” she winked up at Brynna.

Brynna patted Nymeria on the shoulder. “Good girl.”

Galladon started to get up and go after his sister when Nymeria put her hand on his thigh and lowered him back down onto the bench. He suddenly realized she was touching him and he immediately settled.

Brynna sighed and put her arms around both of them, kissing Galladon’s hair in the process. “Relax, sweetling, I’m _happy_ for you,” she said seriously. “Be kind to each other.”

Galladon and Nymeria smiled at each other, and Galladon could swear it was the first cracks of softness he could see in Nymeria’s eyes.

“Besides, I wouldn’t be one of your sisters if I didn’t tease you, now would I?” Brynna said to him.

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “I suppose not.”

“Time to go entertain the masses,” Brynna said, standing up again. She began blowing kisses to everyone around the table. “I’ll see you all in a while, save me some food!”

“Good luck, darling!” Brienne called across the table to her. Bran summoned a serving maid.

“That’s a good idea, actually,” he said. The serving girl came over and curtsied.

“Your Grace?”

“Please make sure the musicians have plates of food brought to them, I do not wish them to go without or to play while hungry,” he smiled at the girl.

“Of course, Your Grace,” she curtsied again and scuttled off to the kitchens.

Brynna and the rest of the musicians began to play and a cheer went up throughout the hall. Servants walked around the five long tables that ran the length of the hall, filling goblets with wine, ale, or mead, and depositing jugs of the drinks on the tables as well as baskets of bread with honey butter. The feast had officially begun.

Bronn and his wife, Lady Luciya, walked up next to Davos and sat down.

“Well, finally decided to join us?” Tyrion shouted from across and down the table, raising his goblet in salute to Bronn. “Lady Luciya, it’s good to see you.”

Luciya smiled and waved, happy to have her attention taken away from her husband. “And you, Lord Tyrion.”

Introductions were made to those who didn’t know Luciya and she was pleasant and polite enough, but her dark eyes were always alert and sizing up the men around her. After several moments, those eyes settled on Selwyn and Galladon, and her mouth curved up slightly in a knowing smirk.

Only Brienne noticed.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ser Deston fiddled with his House Blackwood cloak about his shoulders, making sure it was straight. He then gave his armor another once-over, making sure everything was fastened properly. He still couldn’t believe he was now a member of the Kingsguard. He had arrived in King’s Landing not even a fortnight ago and here he was with a huge tourney win under his belt and an opportunity at a new life.

He and the other members of the Kingsguard had been instructed to simply wander the feast hall throughout the evening, making sure everything was under control. They were scattered in pairs around the room, with Deston having been paired with Ser Ashtin. Podrick was with Elren, leaving Chrestan and Cayle together. Joanna and Brienne, of course, were with Bran.

As he kept messing with his cloak, Deston could hear the whispers and titters of the ladies all around him. The hall was filled with them, fawning and fighting over the young knights and lords. As he looked up, he noticed a small group of them whispering and gazing at him. He smiled and bowed politely. They all giggled and smiled back.

Ashtin sidled up to Deston and helped him fix his cloak.

“How are you getting on so far?” Ashtin asked. “I know this all happened pretty quickly.”

Deston smiled. “I think I’m alright. I wanted to thank all of you for making me feel so welcome.”

He was vaguely aware that the musicians had started playing in the background, the soft tune floating to him at the back of the hall.

“We’re glad to have you, we’ve been short-staffed for a while now,” Ashtin replied. Deston laughed at that.

“The Lord Commander told me as much.”

In addition to the music that washed over the hall, Deston noted that someone had started singing. The voice was lovely…sonorous and clear like a bell, yet soft and melodious like a bird. Curious, his eyes searched out the source of the music, finally coming to rest on the group of musicians on the dais behind the King.

“She also told us to eat, do you think they’ll bring us something if we…”

And that’s when he saw her.

Deston’s mouth fell slightly open and he took a few involuntary steps forward, his eyes fixated on the girl singing and playing the harp. The long waves of her hair looked like spun gold. Her delicate hands moved over the harp strings with such ease and softness that he found himself wondering what they felt like. She smiled as she sang, and Deston found it the most disarming gesture he had ever seen. He couldn’t really see the color of her eyes at this distance, but it didn’t matter.

Her voice was mesmerizing to him and he found himself being lulled into a trance as he watched her. It took him a few moments to realize Ashtin was speaking to him.

“Ser Deston, are you alright?” He nudged him, but Deston did not move. He did speak, however.

“Who…who is that?” Deston said dazedly, never once taking his eyes off the golden singer.

“Who?” Ashtin asked, trying to figure out who Deston was looking at.

“The girl singing…she’s…she’s exquisite,” he was whispering now.

“Oh, that’s Lady Brynna Lannister, one of the Lord Commander’s daughters.”

“Oh, right, the one missing from the tourney,” Deston still felt as if he were in a dream. He felt as though Brynna’s voice was weaving a spell around him and sinking underneath his skin. He took another small step towards her, feeling as if she were a magnet pulling him to her.

“Brynna…”

An opportunity for a new life indeed.


	12. The Feast, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening continues...

The rumors about Lady Luciya Blackwater had never been actually proven, but they ran rampant throughout servants and courtiers all the way from the Reach to King’s Landing and back again. Of course, the facts about Bronn were more well-known and were not even remotely disputed. The man was a regular in almost every brothel from the Crownlands to the Reach.

It was known that Luciya’s tastes ran towards younger men. Brienne hadn’t been sure just _how_ young until right at that moment, as she saw Bronn’s wife sizing up her sons. Galladon was thankfully too engrossed with Nymeria Baratheon to take notice of anything else going on around him. What horrified Brienne even more than Luciya’s behavior in general, was when Selwyn, who had been talking to Davos, noticed Luciya eyeing him over the Master of Ships’ shoulder…and smiled and winked at her.

Brienne put her goblet back down on the table a bit too hard, causing everyone near her to jump and look at her.

“Love, are you alright?” Jaime asked, putting his hand on her arm. She ignored him and instead pointed a finger at Selwyn.

“Don’t even think about it,” she said threateningly. Selwyn looked at her, blushing but looking surprised. Brienne suddenly stood up and reining in her temper, casually smoothed her skirts. “Lady Luciya,” she gave Bronn’s wife her sweetest smile. “Walk with me a moment, won’t you?”

Luciya blinked a few times in nervousness and also adapted a mask of false niceties.

“Of course, Lady Brienne.” She stood up and waited as Brienne walked around the table, petting Galladon’s hair as she walked by. When she got to Selwyn she squeezed his shoulder so hard it made him wince. Jaime, totally confused as to what was happening, gave them a puzzled look which neither one of them saw.

Brienne steered Luciya to the back of the hall, nodding to Deston and Ashtin in greeting as she passed them. When they were finally out of earshot of anyone else, Brienne stopped and faced Lady Caron-Blackwater, taking deep breaths to offset her anger.

“Lady Luciya,” she said quietly and evenly. “Rather than dance around formalities, let me get right to the point. I don’t know the nature of your marriage to Lord Ser Bronn, nor is it any of my business or concern. Who you take as lovers is also none of my concern. What _does_ concern me, however, is your current choice.” She leaned forward, using her height to its full advantage. “I’m only going to say this once…keep your eyes and your claws _off_ my sons, or else we are going to have a serious disagreement. You have an entire feast hall full of young lords who I’m sure would be more than happy to assist you with your…_needs_. However, my sons are not for the picking. As for Selwyn, I will deal with his inappropriate behavior later.”

“Yes, my lady,” Luciya said quietly, not wishing to end up on the wrong side of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. “My apologies…and my thanks for not making a scene at the table,” she looked down at the floor.

“That’s not my style,” Brienne replied. “If I may be so bold, I can understand being married to Lord Ser Bronn is most likely…difficult.”

Luciya looked up again and after a few moments, simply nodded. Brienne suddenly found herself feeling sorry for the lady.

“He is…well, you know…you’ve been around him enough.”

Brienne gave her a slight nod and silently thanked the Seven she and Jaime were a match made out of love and not duty.

“Well, I’m glad we understand one another now,” Brienne said calmly. “Shall we return to the festivities?”

Luciya nodded and walked hurriedly away to put some space between her and Brienne. Brienne closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths before walking back. She knew her children were growing up and would start to attract suitors and ladies, but she wasn’t quite ready to let any of them go, not even Joanna and Brynna, who were of suitable marrying age. Galladon would be there soon as well. Even though she was excited to see her family grow, the thought made her a little sad. Perhaps that was why she coddled Arthur so much. They were all growing up so fast, so she felt compelled to hold onto the last shred of childhood they possessed.

Walking back to the table and taking her seat again, Jaime immediately slid his arm around her and leaned in close.

“Everything alright?” He whispered to her, stroking her back. Brienne turned to him and kissed his cheek.

“It is now.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was between courses, so people had begun to get up and wander around, chatting with people they knew, or people they wanted to meet. The drinks kept flowing, and revelers were well on their way to becoming tipsy while waiting for the next lavish course of food to arrive.

Looking out over the crowd, Brynna watched everyone drinking and chatting. She smiled as she watched her family laughing and enjoying each other, but to her, life, and especially a party, was not complete without music. She stood up and turned to face the band.

“I think it’s time to liven up this feast,” Brynna said mischievously to the rest of her musicians. “Let’s give them the _Loreley_. There are plenty of sailors here who will enjoy that.”

The musicians started to play once more as Brynna walked down from the dais and out into the crowd, picking her way towards her family, and in particular, Selwyn, who she knew would not only know the song, but would also most likely join her in singing it. She noticed his face brighten up as soon as he recognized the tune. She also noticed that Davos’ did too. Brynna dramatically twirled around and began singing to the crowd.

_Merrily we sailed along, though the waves were plenty strong,_  
_Down the twisting Torentine, following the song…_  
_Legend’s faded storyline tried to warn us all,_  
_Oh, they called her “Loreley”_  
_Careful or you’ll fall…_

As Brynna had predicted, Selwyn suddenly jumped up from his seat and stood up on the bench. He began clapping out a rhythm to go along with the words, turning and looking around at the assembled attendants, trying to get them to join him. Slowly but surely, they did. As Brynna said, there were enough sailors at the feast who all knew this tune and enthusiastically followed Selwyn’s lead. Looking down at his sister who was now next to him and smiling up at him, Selwyn loudly, and quite well, considering, belted out the next verse.

_Oh, the stories we were told_  
_Quite a vision to behold_  
_Mysteries of the seas in her eyes of gold..._  
_Laying on the silver stone, such a lonely sight_  
_Barnacles become a throne, my poor Loreley..._

Brienne and Jaime wore similar expressions of raised eyebrows and bright yet surprised smiles. Jaime took Brienne’s hand and kissed it as they watched their daughter and son further whip the feast-goers into revelry. Brynna joined Selwyn again for the chorus…

_And the winds would cry, and many men would die_  
_And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley..._  
_And the winds would cry, and many men would die_  
_And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley..._

Everyone was now laughing and clapping or swinging their goblets along with the tune. Tyrion was thoroughly enjoying this, watching his niece and nephew singing in tandem. Even Bronn was impressed. Selwyn jumped down off the bench and began singing and clapping his way up and down the tables, with Brynna doing the same to the other half of the room. Joanna broke out laughing as she watched all of the young ladies’ eyes in the room zero in on her brother.

Brynna gestured for Selwyn to continue, which he was happy to do.

_You would not believe your eyes, how a voice could hypnotize_  
_Promises are only lies from Loreley_  
_In a shade of mossy green, seashell in her hand_  
_She was born the river queen, ne'er to grace the land..._

This time the sailors, Davos, and even some of the crowd joined in…

_And the winds would cry, and many men would die_  
_And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley..._  
_And the winds would cry, and many men would die_  
_And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley..._

Brynna and Selwyn came together again in one of the long aisles between the tables. He grabbed her and pulled her into a dance where they skipped and spun each other around up and down the floor. The long tails of Selwyn’s crimson velvet coat flew out as they danced, as did Brynna’s long sleeves.

Jaime smiled and his eyes became shiny as he watched them, thinking proudly, _they are mine, and everyone knows it._ He squeezed Brienne’s hand again.

Selwyn and Brynna let each other go again once they had reached the center of the room, whereupon they both resumed clapping, singing, and dancing up and down the long tables. Selwyn made a gallant gesture to her, throwing the song back to his sister.

_Oh, the song of Loreley_  
_Charms the moon right from the sky..._  
_She will get inside your mind, lovely Loreley..._  
_When she cries "Be with me until the end of time"_  
_You know you will ever be with your Loreley..._

By now, everyone in the hall had joined in.

_And the winds would cry, and many men would die_  
_And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley...'_  
_And the winds would cry, and many men would die_  
_And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley..._  
_And the winds would cry, and many men would die_  
_And all the waves would bow down…to the Loreley..._

The great hall erupted into cheers and applause and the banging of goblets on tables. Brynna had ended up at the far end of the hall while Selwyn ended up at the front. Selwyn took a few steps up onto the dais and bowed grandly to his sister at the opposite end, blowing her a kiss and a smile.

Brynna laughed and blew him a kiss in return. There were cheers and calls for another song, as she and Selwyn now had the full attention of the hall on them. Brynna smiled and held up a hand.

“Pray, my good lords and ladies, give me a moment to recover myself and we shall have another song!”

Another cheer went up at her words. The noise of chattering once again filled the great hall as people went back to their conversations. Brynna turned around to catch her breath and decided she needed a bit of air. She walked out through the open glass doors to the terrace outside, drinking in the cool night breezes.

Deston had watched her as she slipped outside. In fact, he had been watching her all night. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He turned to Ser Ashtin.

“Can you cover for me for a few minutes? I need to get a little air.”

Ashtin nodded. “Of course, take as much time as you need.”

Deston smiled and made for the doors as what could be noted as a little too quickly. He found Brynna standing over by the low terrace wall, looking up at the moon. He walked up behind her and suddenly froze, not sure what to do.

_What do I say?_

He decided on softly clearing his throat in order to get her attention.

Brynna jumped and turned around, suddenly finding herself face to face with one of most handsome men she had ever seen.

_By the gods…_

The torchlight edging the terrace played off his face, showing off his sharp features. Their eyes met, and Brynna suddenly forgot how to move.

_Is he an angel?_ She shook her head to clear her jumbled thoughts.

Deston made a stiff and awkward bow before her, straightening up to look her in the eyes again. He began stuttering over his words, not quite sure what to say now that he was close to her.

_She’s even more beautiful up close._

“My lady…you…you sing beautifully,” he said.

Brynna remained paralyzed. _Come on, pull yourself together. He’s just a man. An extremely handsome man. And a knight._

She smiled at him and curtseyed. Deston felt his heart would stop.

“Thank you, my good Ser. Are you enjoying the evening?”

“Uh…yes, yes…very much,” Deston answered. “I hope to hear more of your singing.”

_Yes, you idiot, you already told her you liked her singing._

Brynna laughed and Deston thought it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. “Well, if this crowd has anything to say about it, I won’t escape without giving them at least one or two more songs.”

Deston smiled back at her and Brynna suddenly found she too had knots in her stomach. She had seen many men in her life, but there was something about this one that almost took her breath away. His thick dark curls were brushed back from his face and flowed neatly down his neck. He was handsome, yes, but when he smiled at her like he just had, she felt it all the way down to her toes.

_He has astonishing eyes,_ Brynna thought. _Somewhere between the color of dark honey mead and the brandy Uncle Tyrion is so fond of._

Deston drew his brows together in confusion. “I’m sorry, my lady, are you in need of a drink?”

Suddenly remembering herself, Brynna snapped out of her reverie. “What? A drink?”

“Yes, you were saying something about honey mead?”

_Oh gods, was that out loud? How mortifying._

“Oh, a drink! Um, yes!” She laughed and put her hand to her chest. “Forgive me, Ser, I am Lady Brynna Lannister,” she said, trying to change the subject.

“Yes, I know,” he smiled again and it melted her core.

_Damn him._

“Uh…Ser Ashtin informed me when I asked him…before…when I saw you singing up…up there,” he blushed and pointed at the dais to where the other musicians were currently playing a ballad. “Oh, and begging your pardon, my lady, I am Ser Deston Blackwood.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ser Deston,” Brynna said dreamily, never taking her eyes off of his.

_I must look like a complete fool…and why is my heart beating so fast?_

Deston reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “Believe me, my lady, the pleasure is mine.” He placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. Brynna’s stomach did another flip.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From his seat inside the feast hall, Jaime narrowed his eyes and leaned over to whisper in Brienne’s ear. “What’s going on there?” He said, his protective paternal instincts kicking in.

“Where, love?”

Jaime pointed out towards the open doors to the terrace.

“There,” Jaime said, trying to be inconspicuous while straining to get a better look. Brienne partially stood up to look over Jaime’s head.

“Oh, looks like Ser Deston has discovered our daughter,” Brienne suddenly smiled. “And it looks like our daughter has discovered him as well,” she answered him with a teasing note to her voice.

“Hmm,” Jaime grumbled, his mouth fixed in a straight line. He kept shifting around trying to get a better view.

“Jaime, stop it,” Brienne playfully slapped him on the arm. “She’ll be fine.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ser Deston Blackwood,” Brynna repeated. Her face suddenly lit up in remembrance. “Oh! You’re the one who defeated my brother in the tournament,” her expression melted into a teasing one. “Maybe I shouldn’t be speaking to you,” she said a bit more flirtatious than she had intended.

Deston blushed and let out a small laugh. “Guilty, my lady. Your brother is an exemplary fighter, and displays the most chivalrous of attitudes and composure, he was a very worthy opponent and I’m proud to know him.”

Brynna smiled. “How sweet of you, Ser Deston, thank you. He and I are close and I agree he is a good man.”

They stood there for a few moments just staring and smiling at each other, neither one quite knowing what to say. Finally Deston looked around and then gestured to the dais at the other end of the hall.

“May I escort you back to your post?” He chuckled at his attempt at a jape.

Brynna caught on quickly. “Well, I don’t know, is it safe for you to leave yours?”

Deston leaned towards her and smiled mischievously. “Maybe you can put in a good word with your mother for me?”

Brynna laughed her melodious laugh and Deston found it endearing. Slipping her hand gently into his arm, she blushed. “That would be lovely, Ser, thank you.”

They walked the length of the hall back to the area where the rest of the Lannisters were seated. Galladon happened to look up as they were approaching. He jumped up off the bench.

“Deston! Wow look at you! All Kingsguarded up,” he smiled. “I see you have found my sister.”

“Was I lost, brother?” Brynna said sarcastically.

“She was kind enough to allow me to introduce myself to her,” Deston smiled at Galladon. “And now I return her to where she can continue to grace us with her enchanting music.” He bowed to Brynna and gestured to the musicians who were in the process of eating the food from the course they had just played through.

“Ser Deston,” it was Brienne. “How are you getting on, is everything alright so far?”

Deston turned to her and bowed again. “Lord Commander, everything is just fine, thank you.”

“Have you eaten?”

“A little.”

“Make sure you and the others eat, I don’t want you all hungry.”

“I will, Commander.” Deston turned to Brynna and innocently kissed her hand. “A pleasure to meet you, my lady,” he grinned at her. Turning to the others, he once again bowed graciously. “Continue to enjoy your evening, my lords, ladies, Your Grace.”

Brynna watched him walk away, her eyes following his every move. Without taking her eyes off him, she walked around to the other side of the table and sat down in Brienne’s lap. She put her arms around Brienne’s neck, her gaze still on the retreating form of Ser Deston.

“Oh, Mumma," she sighed. "He’s just…”

“Excuse me,” Jaime interrupted. “You’ve only just met him.”

“Oh hush, Papa,” Brynna said, still watching her knight.

Brienne laughed. Jaime scowled at her.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he said to Brienne through clenched teeth.

Suddenly Podrick was beside them. “Did I just see what I think I saw?”

Brynna looked up at Podrick and smiled. “Oh, Pod, what’s he like?”

“Oh sure, you’ll listen to Podrick,” Jaime said, crossing his arms and sulking. Brynna sighed and rolled her eyes. Moving over onto Jaime’s lap, she put her arms around her father’s neck and kissed him on the cheek.

“Oh Papa, don’t pout, you’ll always be my first love,” she giggled and laid her head on the top of Jaime’s.

“I better be,” he muttered, putting his arms around his daughter. Brienne shook her head and smiled at him. She reached out to cup his cheek.

“Yes, and mine as well.”

Jaime huffed and fixed his wife with a glare. “When it comes to _you,_ I better be your _only_ love.”

Brienne just smiled at him and stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers.

“You know very well that you are.”

Jaime’s eyes softened like they always did whenever Brienne placated him.

“And if it doesn’t work out with him, I’m always willing—“

“Don’t. Just don’t,” Jaime grumbled at Bronn. Bronn feigned innocence and then chuckled. Brienne gave him a motherly look of disapproval and then turned back to Brynna.

“Darling, Ser Deston is a very good man from what I’ve known of him so far. He’s only been here a fortnight, so I can’t really make an informed judgment yet, but I like what I see so far.”

“He’s very kind, honorable, eager to learn and to fit in,” Podrick added. “Speaks highly and fondly of his family,” he leaned down to come face to face with Brynna. “Ridiculously handsome,” he teased her.

Brynna laughed and blushed. “He is that, yes, he has the most amazing eyes.” She turned in Jaime’s lap to try to pick Deston out of the crowd again. She found him almost instantly.

Jaime’s insides grew warm at that. He had been lost in Brienne’s eyes almost from the moment he met her.

“That’s the first thing I noticed about your mother, sweetling,” he said. Brynna looked down at him.

“Really? How sweet, Papa,” she smiled at him. Brienne snorted.

“You are such a liar, the first thing you noticed was how much of a beast I was, and least that’s what you said at the time.”

“Love, that is not true,” he looked hurt. “Besides, I’m not telling our daughter the first things I noticed about you were those amazing legs and your ass.”

“Jaime!”

“Papa!”

Podrick choked on his drink. Jaime started laughing. He was silently thankful that the twins and Arthur weren’t paying attention to the conversation. Selwyn was still chatting away to Davos about sailing.

“Funny, those are the first things I noticed too.”

Jaime glared at Bronn, who was grinning and trying not to laugh. Lady Luciya was ignoring him, and was instead hungrily looking Podrick up and down from across the table. Brienne just rolled her eyes. She had protected her sons, but Podrick was Sosan's responsibility. Brynna slid off Jaime’s lap and went to stand next to Brienne, looking over the table. Her eyes settled on Galladon, who had his head close to Nymeria Baratheon’s, whispering about something that made her roll her eyes at him but smile anyway.

“It seems Gall has found someone to occupy his time,” she said, giggling and leaning on Brienne’s shoulder.

“I know, I think it’s precious,” Brienne said. “I’d love nothing more than our families to be joined.”

“Yes, Mumma, well, that may happen in more ways than one,” Brynna slid her eyes to Joanna, who was standing behind Bran at the head of the table, close enough to hear. Joanna gave Brynna a murderous look. Brynna smiled innocently.

Brienne’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean, darling?”

“Nothing,” she said, her voice high and melodious. Turning to the crowd she shouted as loud as she could. “Right then! Who’s up for another song?”

A mass of cheers rang out as Brynna walked back towards the musicians, stopping to give Joanna a loud kiss on the cheek as she walked by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brynna and Selwyn's song is called "Loreley" and is by Blackmore's Night. Again, I changed the place names to fit Westerosi geography. Here is the link to the song if anyone is interested.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t1oRC6by83A


	13. The Feast, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening comes to a close...

Galladon was absolutely lost, and it scared him. He had spent the entire feast with his attention focused on Nymeria Baratheon, much to the dismay of the other ladies present, but he didn’t care. For the first time in his life, he wanted to not only kiss a woman, but to completely possess her, and to be possessed by her in return. He wanted to belong to her, body and soul. He was extremely aroused by the thought, and had to fight to keep his body from betraying him.

_What is happening to me?_

He watched everything she did. He watched her eat, drink, talk to her parents and the others around her. He watched her brush her hair back with her hand. Every tiny movement she made, the way she sighed, the curl of her eyelashes…everything entranced him. As he sat gazing at her unashamedly, it took him a few moments to realize she was staring back at him. He suddenly flinched and Nymeria giggled.

“Got lost there, did you?” She teased him. Galladon smiled and blushed.

“A little.”

Nymeria shifted her body to face him and leaned her elbow on the table, resting her face in her hand. She narrowed her grey eyes at him and contemplated him for several moments.

“You know, I wasn’t entirely truthful before,” she began. “You really are an impressive fighter.”

Galladon rested his forearms on the table and laced his fingers together. Leaning towards her, he gave her a sly grin.

“Lying to me already, my lady? We’ve only barely met.”

Nymeria rolled her eyes but smiled. “Well you can never be too careful, you know.”

When Galladon just kept staring at her with a strange little smile on his face, she continued.

“You know, if you were to combine a little of my fighting style with yours,” she then lowered her voice to a husky whisper. “You’d be unstoppable.”

Something stirred in Galladon’s loins at the way Nymeria said that. He raised his eyebrows.

“Unstoppable? Really?”

Nymeria nodded against her hand. “I could teach you if you like.”

Galladon’s eyebrows slowly went up. _She wants to teach me. She wants to spend more time with me._

“Won’t my armor be counterproductive to your style?”

Nymeria shrugged. “We can work with it. Like I said, the goal would be to combine the two styles of fighting.”

Galladon smirked at her, his blue eyes lit with curiosity. “Alright, you’re on.”

“Good,” Nymeria smirked back. “We start tomorrow.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bran reached for Sansa and Arya’s hands, giving them both a gentle squeeze.

“I’m so glad you’re both here, I have missed my sisters greatly.”

Arya smiled as Sansa replied, “I have to say it’s nice to be out of the North for a bit. I don’t mind the cold, but it’s nice to feel the sun warm more than your face.”

“I’m glad you’ve both agreed to remain here for the near future,” Bran continued. “I’m in need of both of your help.”

Arya furrowed her thick eyebrows. “Is everything alright, brother?”

“Physically I’m fine, yes, but I need to once and for all make sense to what has happened to my head.”

“And you think we can help you do that?” Sansa added, looking just as confused as her sister.

“I don’t know, but you two know me better than anyone else that still lives,” Bran said sadly, thinking of his parents, Robb, and Rickon. “I need to feel human again,” he finished quietly.

After a few moments Arya nodded. “I don’t know what we can do, but we’ll do our best.”

“When you say you want to ‘feel human again’,” Sansa interjected. “What exactly do you feel like?”

Bran cracked a tiny smile. “I’m literally a walking history book. I can see any event in Westeros’ past, and I can see things happening now through my ravens.”

“Can you see the future?” Sansa continued.

Bran shook his head. “Not exactly. I have visions but nothing strung together, and nothing that I can make tangible sense of. For example, I have a vision of something, but no idea how it came to get to that point, if that makes any sense.”

Arya shrugged. “I suppose so.”

“The burden won’t be entirely on you, my dear sisters,” Bran mused. “For I have had a feeling lately that someone else has a part to play in all this…and they are coming soon.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tyrion had excused himself to use the privy, leaving his seat open between Brienne and Sansa. Swallowing the remainder of the mead in her goblet, Brienne seized the opportunity. Clearing her throat loudly so that all of her children ended up looking at her, she crooked her finger at Selwyn. Once the others realized they weren’t the ones being summoned, they went back to their conversations. Selwyn slowly got up off the bench and made his way around to the other side of the table, an annoyed sulk on his face.

He sat down on the bench next to his mother, facing outward with his back towards the table. Propping his elbows on the table behind him, Selwyn lazily leaned back and looked at his mother. Brienne stared at her son for a few moments before leaning towards him to make their conversation as private as possible.

“Darling, I know you’re getting older, and I know ladies will start to notice you and you will start to notice them.”

Selwyn smirked at her. “Mum, if this is the talk about how to bed a lady, I already learned about this from Maester Barrish years ago.”

Brienne reached out and flicked his ear. “Don’t you mock me, young man.”

“Ow!” Selwyn winced and rubbed his ear.

“I’m sure you think you know all the intimate details of bedding someone, and no, that’s not what I want to talk to you about.”

Selwyn shifted uneasily but remained silent. Brienne continued.

“Sweetling, it’s not the flirting I mind, it’s your choice of lady. Under no circumstances should you try to bed someone’s wife…especially not Bronn’s…there’s a lot of trouble there that you don’t need, trust me.”

“But Mum, she did it first, I didn't--” Selwyn began to protest.

“I realize that, but you know she is a married lady. If she wishes to cuckold her husband, that’s her business, but don’t make it yours. There are plenty of young unmarried ladies who would love your attentions.”

Selwyn nodded. “Yes, Mum.”

Brienne softened and reached out to stroke his hair. “I know you want to be your own man, and I support that…I just also want to make sure you don’t get yourself in a situation you’ll regret or that will get you in serious trouble.”

Selwyn smiled and looked up at his mother from under the dark blonde curls that hung in his eyes.

“Alright, Mum, message received,” he leaned over and wrapped his arms around her neck, laying his head on her shoulder, surprising her. She put her arms around him in return.

“My goodness, what is this for?”

“For looking out for me,” Selwyn mumbled against Brienne’s shoulder.

“Forever, my darling.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The revelry continued on well into the night. People began to slowly filter out, some rather far into their cups, heading back to their rooms or the inns they were staying in.

Deston had visited the dais where the musicians were playing quite a few times, bringing Brynna drinks or food, or just wanting to be close to her. Each time she blushed and thanked him graciously. She had even agreed to let him stay once it was time to pack up the instruments and return everything to her music room. He in turn offered to escort her both to her music room and then to her chambers so she wouldn’t have to walk alone. Smiling and bowing to her, he once again took his leave until the night was officially over.

Podrick and Sosan gathered up their children and said their goodnights to everyone. Podrick kissed his wife and told her he would be up as soon as Bran was safely in his rooms. Once the Paynes had gone, Arthur wandered over to stand between Jaime and Brienne, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Brienne drew him into her arms and kissed him on the temple.

“My little love,” she cooed. “Sleepy are we?”

Arthur nodded and laid his head on Brienne’s shoulder. Jaime reached over to stroke his son’s back.

“Want me to take you up, darling?” Brienne asked him.

“Okay,” he said quietly.

“Alright,” Brienne stood up and took Arthur’s hand in hers. “I’ll be back in a bit,” she told everyone seated near her. She looked down at her son. “Say goodnight to Papa.”

Jaime reached over and gathered Arthur in his arms. Arthur put his arms around Jaime’s neck and laid his head on his shoulder.

“Goodnight, Papa,” he said softly.

Jaime’s heart melted every time he was around his youngest. He brought his hand up to the back of Arthur’s head and stroked his hair.

“Goodnight, my sweet boy, I love you.”

“I love you, too, Papa.”

Whenever Arthur spoke it was so softly that Jaime sometimes had to strain to hear him. He was such a shy and gentle soul, that Jaime’s paternal instinct to protect him was always heightened. The painful reality was that Arthur reminded him of Tommen.

Jaime kissed him on the top of his head. Arthur reached out and took Brienne’s hand again. Brienne leaned down to kiss Jaime, giving him full view of the swell of her breasts in the tight bodice of her dress. Her sapphire necklace swung in the air as she bent over. “I’ll be back once he’s in bed,” she said against his lips.

“Don’t be too long, you don’t want me to get lonely,” Jaime said, smiling and fingering the stone Brienne never took off. “I still need to get you out of that dress,” he eyed her bosom and stuck out his bottom jaw like he did whenever he was aroused.

“Yes, love, there will be time for that later tonight,” she eyed him up and down. “You look quite delectable yourself…very handsome,” she whispered in his ear. “There are things I wish to do to you as well, my love.”

Jaime’s eyes lit up. “Oooh, I can’t wait,” he grinned and waggled his eyebrows. He leaned forward and pressed a slow kiss to the top of one of her breasts.

“Jaime!” She blushed and tried to push him away. “Our son is standing right here.”

“He’s not looking,” Jaime said. He was right, Arthur was in fact saying goodnight to Selwyn and Tyrion. Jaime hooked his finger in her bodice and pulled her close so he could kiss the other breast. He slowly rubbed his beard against her soft flesh, darting the tip of his tongue out to taste her.

“Jaime, what’s gotten into you? People will stare.”

His attention was fully on her chest now, he didn’t even look up at her. “Let them, most of them are drunk anyway,” he said huskily. Brienne stood up, with Jaime’s head trailing after her, still trying to kiss her. She smiled and cupped his cheek.

“Just another hour or two and you can ravish me to your heart’s content.”

“Promise?” Jaime grinned at her again.

“Yes, love, I promise,” Brienne laughed and ruffled his hair. He turned his head to kiss her palm. Brienne looked across the table.

“Alysanne, Arianne, come my darlings, it’s time for bed.”

“Yes, Mumma,” they said in unison. The twins stood up and made their way around the table, kissing and hugging everyone goodnight on their way by. After stopping at Tyrion, Davos, and Selwyn, they finally made their way to their father.

“Goodnight, Papa,” they each said, each one of them kissing Jaime on either side of his face at the same time. He put an arm around each of them.

“Goodnight my sweetlings, I love you _this_ much,” he said and tickled them both. Alysanne and Arianne both squealed with laughter.

“Alright, let’s go,” Brienne said. Brienne still had Arthur’s hand and led him out of the hall, the twins following her on either side.

They had begun their walk across the courtyard when Alysanne suddenly looked up.

“Oh Mumma, look at the stars, they’re so bright tonight!”

Brienne looked up. “It’s because it’s a dark moon, darling,” she said. “It’s magnificent isn’t it?”

Arianne leaned into her mother’s side and looked up into the sky. “Can we sit and watch them for a bit?”

“Oh, yes, please,” Alysanne said.

Brienne smiled. “Alright, I don’t see why not.”

She led them over to one of the benches and sat down, gathering Arthur into her lap. Arianne and Alysanne each sat on opposite sides of her and Brienne reached out to put an arm around each of them and pull them tightly against her. The girls were close enough now to balance against the now sleeping Arthur, to keep him from falling off Brienne’s lap.

They sat in silence for a bit, just looking up at the night sky. It brought Brienne back to the time she and Jaime had traveled through the Riverlands, sleeping under the stars. She smiled at the memory, remembering how she had willed him to live.

Arianne pointed up at one of the constellations. “That’s the King’s Crown, and that’s the Stallion.”

“And there’s the Swan and the Moonmaid,” Alysanne added.

“Very good, darlings, you’re very clever,” Brienne said, impressed with her daughters.

“Maester Barrish is fond of astronomy,” Arianne said.

“It’s a very good skill to have,” Brienne added.

“What are you lot doing?” Selwyn asked, suddenly appearing.

“Hello, darling, we’re just watching the stars for a bit,” Brienne answered. “Come join us.”

Selwyn reached down and scooped Alysanne up off the bench, settling himself where she had been sitting next to Brienne. Once he was comfortable, he sat Alysanne on his lap.

“I would assume you know more about the stars than most,” Brienne said, hinting at his love and skill of sailing.

“I guess I know my fair share, Mum,” Selwyn said, giving her a sly grin.

“How is it going with Davos? It seems like I hardly see you anymore.”

“It’s great, Mum, I swear I was born to be at sea.”

“I remember how your grandfather would chase after you on Tarth,” Brienne giggled. “Always running to the water.”

Selwyn smiled. “Ser Davos says he thinks I have what it takes to be Master of Ships one day.”

“Really? That’s wonderful, sweetheart.”

“I still have a lot to learn, but he says I have a real knack for it.”

Brienne squeezed Arianne more tightly against her.

“If that doesn’t work out you and Brynna can always form a signing troupe,” Brienne teased him.

Selwyn barked a laugh. “I only know sea shanties mostly.” He looked down at Arthur. “He asleep?”

Brienne looked down at her youngest. “It would appear so, yes.”

Selwyn reached out to gently touch a few of his brother’s curls.

“Sel, will you take me to Essos someday?” Arianne suddenly said.

“Absolutely I will.”

Brienne looked down at her daughter. “What is the sudden fascination with Essos? Maester Barrish tells me you’re obsessed with it.”

Arianne shrugged. “I like different cultures, I guess. They have such neat things there…I want to see them for myself.”

Alysanne yawned and put her head on Selwyn’s shoulder. Her eyes were growing heavy. “They have amazing horses in Essos,” she said sleepily.

Brienne assumed the feast hall was beginning to empty out as people sporadically began wandering through the courtyard on their way to their rooms.

“I should get you lot upstairs to bed so I can go collect your father before he drinks himself into a stupor and falls asleep on the table,” Brienne said.

“Here, Mum, give him to me,” Selwyn said, setting Alysanne on her feet and reaching for Arthur. “I’ll put them to bed.”

“Oh, thank you, darling, that’s very kind.” Brienne handed the sleeping Arthur over to his brother who cradled him against his chest.

“He’s gotten heavy,” Selwyn laughed quietly.

“I know,” Brienne said wistfully. “I wish he stayed little.” She leaned over to kiss her sleeping son on the forehead.

“Come on girls, let’s go get you all into bed,” Selwyn said. He leaned over to kiss Brienne on the cheek. “Night, Mum.”

“Goodnight, my darling.” Brienne then embraced the twins and kissed each of them in turn. “Goodnight, sweetlings, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Mumma,” Arianne said, immediately parroted by Alysanne. Selwyn walked off with his siblings in tow. Brienne smiled after them. After making sure they got inside at the other side of the courtyard, she turned around to make her way back to the feast hall. She found herself face to face with her husband.

“Sorry, I couldn’t wait,” Jaime purred, snaking his arms around her waist and burying his face in her neck, giving her slow, soft kisses.

“You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“I don’t know what that means, but sure,” he said, kissing under her jawline and running his hand up and down her back.

Brienne laughed and put her arms around his neck. “You should have come out here sooner. Sel, the girls, and I were stargazing. Arthur fell asleep. Sel just took them all up to bed.”

“I’d rather take you to bed and gaze at you,” Jaime mumbled between kisses.

“Ugh, don’t you two ever stop?”

Brienne sighed without even looking up. “Hello, Galladon.”

“That’s _Ser_ Galladon to you,” he quipped jokingly.

Jaime turned to glare at his eldest son.

“You and Nymeria seem to be getting on,” Brienne said. “You didn’t leave her side all night.”

Galladon smirked and looked back and forth between his parents.

“I can’t even explain it,” he said, shrugging and smiling. “She’s so different from anyone I’ve ever met,” he said dreamily.

“Now you know how I felt when I first encountered your mother,” Jaime said.

“Believe it or not, Ser Papa, I think I get it now,” Galladon said, putting his arm around Jaime’s shoulders. They all began to walk together towards the White Tower. Galladon shook his head as if in disbelief.

“I mean, it was amazing, she challenged me in the yard, and she fought in a style I’ve never seen before, so quick, so light,” he began rambling, the words spilling out of his mouth. “And then, she knocked me down, and she sat on me, which I thought was odd, but then she took off her helmet, and she was a girl! I thought she was a boy until she took her helmet off. I couldn’t believe it! A woman who can flatten me in the training yard! What a concept!”

“Indeed,” Jaime said, glancing at Brienne, his eyes conveying a look of concern about their son’s animated state. She smiled at him and took his hand in hers.

Galladon continued babbling. “So then I asked her name, and she said ‘no one’, and I thought that was really odd too, but then she laughed and said that was a joke she shared with her mother.”

Jaime’s mouth fell open as he tried to keep up with his son’s retelling of his fateful meeting with the Baratheon heiress.

“So then she said her name was Nymeria and then she said I was slow and dropped my right arm when I fight, which I already knew, but she saw it immediately, so that was a bit rude, but it was also incredible at the same time.” Galladon stopped to take a breath. “She sat on me,” he said dreamily again.

Brienne then scowled at her son.

“Galladon, just because she is a woman doesn’t mean you should automatically think she is a lesser fighter. Do you need me to remind you?” She raised her eyebrow at him.

“No, Ser Mumma, I don’t,” he said in a sulky voice, but smirked at her. He then sighed happily again.

“She’s just so…so…different,” he smiled and shook his head. “Her eyes…they’re like a winter sky just before it snows,” he looked wistfully off in the distance. “And after she told me her name, she didn’t ask for mine, so I just told her and she said she knew who I was,” Galladon scrunched up his face then. “She didn’t even care who I was.”

Brienne had to hide a giggle while Jaime just stood dumbfounded.

“And how does she feel about you, my love?” Brienne asked.

“Oh, she’ll come around eventually,” Galladon said. “I won’t have it any other way.” He grinned a grin that looked way too much like his father’s. “I’m going to marry that girl.”

Jaime and Brienne both raised their eyebrows at that.

“I’m meeting her in the yard tomorrow,” Galladon continued. “She’s going to teach me about dancing in water…or something like that, I don’t know,” he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.

They made it up to their suite of rooms, Galladon stopped in front of his door and turned to his parents.

“Goodnight, Ser Mumma, Ser Papa,” he kissed Brienne on the cheek and hugged Jaime.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Was that our son?” Jaime asked once he and Brienne were alone in their chambers.

Brienne was laughing. “Well he’s definitely _your_ son,” she laughed harder.

Jaime looked at her. “What is so funny?”

“He should have just told her it was bloody hot, maybe that would have worked,” she was laughing loudly now.

Jaime scowled at her. “Alright, alright, very funny,” he said, unbuckling his sword belt and leaning _Sapphire Wench_ next to _Oathkeeper_ against the wall like he usually did. Brienne had forgone wearing her sword that evening as it wouldn’t have looked right with her gown.

“He has good taste,” Jaime continued. “He likes being sat on by a woman who could kill him…just like his father does,” he winked at Brienne. “I know I like being under you, that’s for sure.”

Brienne shook her head at him. Jaime sat down and pulled off his boots, sighing happily and wiggling his toes once they were off. Brienne slid her silk slippers off and kicked them to the side.

“Now then,” she looked at him, her voice low. “Come here and let me look at you properly.”

Jaime grinned and stood up, doing a slow twirl for her so she could look him over. Brienne crooked her finger at him and he walked to her, sliding his arms around her waist. His eyes went directly to her bosom again. Brienne put her hands flat against his chest, running them up and down the velvet of his coat.

“Have I told you how devastatingly handsome you look in this outfit?” She said to him.

“Yes, but tell me again,” he chuckled. He brought his hand up to grasp her breast through the bodice of her gown. “Gods, I haven’t been able to keep my eyes or my mind of your breasts all night.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Brienne said sarcastically. “Jaime, you see my breasts every day.”

“I know but…never…like this,” Jaime’s voice was soft and husky as he caressed the swell of her bosom. “So full and just…about to spill over your bodice,” he groaned and leaned forward to kiss them again, rubbing his face against her soft skin, and grinning like a fool.

Brienne had never worn a gown so tight and low cut before. Even her wedding dress had been high-necked.

She reached up between them and began undoing Jaime’s coat as he attacked her chest. Once she had all the fastenings open, he moved his arms to aid her in removing it, never once taking his lips from her skin. Brienne reached out and was able to lay his coat over the back of a nearby chair, not wanting it to just be thrown on the floor like her husband tended to do. She then undid his silk cravat and slid it from around his neck, placing that over his coat.

Jaime reached up and began unlacing her bodice as Brienne moved to un-tuck his shirt and work on the laces to his breeches. When Jaime had Brienne’s bodice undone, her breasts came free and his hand and mouth immediately went to work. He groaned again as he took one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking and licking as he massaged her other breast with his hand.

Brienne began the process of removing her gown when Jaime grabbed her wrist.

“No,” he growled, running his tongue across her chest. “Leave it on, I hardly ever get to fuck you in skirts.”

He began slowly walking her backwards towards the patio doors, kissing her all over her chest and neck as they moved. Reaching out behind Brienne, Jaime felt around until he managed to grip the door handle and push the door open.

Jaime danced her all the way over to the low wall that overlooked the city. Pressing Brienne up against it, he began to ruck up her skirts around her waist. After a few tries, a few curses at how much material there was to her dress, and a few giggles from Brienne, Jaime managed to finally expose her bare legs.

Shoving his breeches down and stepping out of one leg when they fell around his ankles, Jaime ran his hand up the inside of one of Brienne’s thighs, eliciting a breathy moan from her. He pulled her leg around his waist and moved his hand around her to cup her backside. With his stump he lifted her other leg and did the same.

Leaning her against the wall for leverage, Jaime lifted her onto his hips, and slowly slid into her.

“Ohhh _YES!_” he groaned loudly, his eyes closing in pleasure. “_Gods,_ I’ve been waiting for this all night.”

The way he had Brienne positioned, her breasts were right in line with Jaime’s face. Holding onto her buttocks, he took one of her breasts into his mouth again and began to slowly thrust into her.

Brienne put her hands on the lip of the wall behind her, wrapping her legs around Jaime for support. She threw her head back and let the night breezes run through her hair and over her exposed skin. Jaime was moaning and grunting as if he were in heat as his mouth went back and forth between her breasts. When he would leave one to go to the other, the cool breeze would give her goosebumps where his hot mouth had just been.

“Gods, I love your ass,” Jaime mumbled against her chest, kneading her backside each time he thrust. “Hey, look at me,” he said to her.

Brienne brought her head back up to look at her husband. Jaime smiled at her.

“Tell me you love me,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers.

Brienne smiled back at him. “Sweetheart, you know I do.”

“I know,” Jaime chuckled. “I just want to hear it.”

Brienne brought her hands up and held his face, kissing him deeply. Gods, he felt so good inside her.

“I love you,” she whispered, smiling against his lips.

Jaime grinned. “That’s my wench.”

“Oh, you,” Brienne playfully slapped him on the shoulder. Jaime laughed. He brought his forehead against hers again and closed his eyes.

Grabbing a tighter hold on Brienne’s backside, Jaime began rolling her hips into him. He felt Brienne tense around his cock.

“Oh yes, that’s it,” she breathed against his face. Jaime smiled and nibbled on her bottom lip. Brienne reached up and slid her fingers into his hair, gripping it tightly. Her other hand went over his shoulder to clench against his back.

Jaime snaked his hand in between them to rub her where they were joined. Brienne’s breathing became heavier, and she once again leaned her head back as small cries began to escape her lips. Jaime felt himself begin to constrict and he growled against her neck.

“Together, then.”

He rubbed her harder and Brienne’s thighs began to tremble. She let loose a final cry of his name and shuddered around him, which in turn set him off and he groaned against her throat as he emptied himself into her.

Jaime laid his head on Brienne’s chest for several moments, regaining his breath and relishing the feeling of the breeze on the backs of his bare legs. He loosened his hold on her and she let her legs slide down his until her feet were once again on the ground.

Brienne threaded both of her hands through Jaime’s hair and began stroking his head. He sighed and purred against her and she knew if she didn’t move him inside soon that he would fall asleep on his feet right there against her. She kissed him on the forehead and stood up straight.

“Come on, let’s go,” she smiled and laughed quietly. Taking her hand, Jaime trailed after her, his eyes sleepy and a sated grin plastered on his face. He still had his breeches around one ankle and he dragged them across the patio as he made his way inside behind Brienne.

Stripping off the rest of Jaime’s clothes, Brienne cleaned him up, gave him a gentle pat on his rear and sent him off towards their bed. He climbed in and settled while she removed her gown and took her hair down from the style Alysanne and Arianne had given her earlier. Once she was undressed and cleaned herself, she walked to her side of the bed and slid under the covers. Jaime immediately wrapped himself around her like he did every night. Brienne began stroking his hair again as she knew it was one of his favorite things and it also made him sleepy.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” She asked him. Jaime sighed against her and tightened his hold on her.

“Mmm hmm,” he answered, tucking his face further into her neck.

Brienne suddenly grew sad, thinking about Luciya and how unhappy she was with Bronn, yet stayed with him out of duty. She kissed Jaime softly on his temple. He purred again.

“Thank you, my love,” Brienne whispered to him.

“Hmm? For what?” He mumbled.

“For our marriage being one of love and not obligation.”

Jaime sleepily lifted his head to look at her. He smiled lazily and kissed her. “What brought this on?”

Brienne smiled sadly. “Just thinking of Lady Luciya and Bronn and how miserable they are. I know they both warm others’ beds as well as their own. I caught her eyeing up our sons tonight…that’s why I got upset.”

Jaime’s eyebrows went up. “She _what?”_

“Shhh, it’s alright, love, I handled it.” She stroked his cheek.

Jaime pressed himself tighter against her and laid his head back down on her shoulder, once again sticking his nose in her hair. He then began chuckling.

“I’ll bet you scared her.”

“I’d like to think I did. Either way it worked, she took her attentions elsewhere.” Brienne gently drew patterns on his back with her fingertips. “And thank you for never straying.”

Jaime sank deeper against her and she knew he wasn’t far from sleep.

“I only have eyes for you, my love,” he purred. “And I always will.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deston and Brynna arrived at her rooms after he had helped her return the instruments to her music sanctuary. They had made idle chat while he walked her slowly back to the White Tower and now that they were standing in front of her door, Brynna found she didn’t wish him to leave. They stood there in an embarrassed silence for a few moments before Brynna finally spoke.

“Thank you very much, good Ser, for your company this evening, and for seeing me safely to my rooms.”

Deston smiled and bowed his head. “The pleasure was indeed mine, my lady.”

Brynna’s heart fluttered. His voice, his eyes, his smile…they all did things to her she had never encountered before. They fell into silence again and just stared at each other.

“If I may be so bold,” Deston said softly, “I would very much like to spend more time with you.”

Brynna smiled coyly. “That would be wonderful,” her stomach flipped again. “I usually spend my time in my music room, the gardens, or…” she waved her hand. “…wherever.” She giggled and blushed.

Deston chuckled and smiled back at her. “Right then…I’ll see you…wherever.” He bowed and reached for her hand. Never taking his eyes off hers, he brought it slowly to his lips and before kissing her knuckles, he turned her hand over and placed a lingering kiss on her palm.

Brynna’s breath hitched in her throat as Deston’s kiss sent shockwaves through her.

“Until tomorrow, my lady,” he said, his voice low in his throat. “I will look for you.”

He kissed her palm once more and straightened up. Bowing to her, he turned and walked away backwards, beaming a bright smile at her. Eventually he turned and strode away down the hall. Brynna didn’t move until he had disappeared around a corner.

Leaning back against her door, she smiled and chewed her bottom lip. She then began laughing and jumping around in a circle, finally releasing all of the delicious tension that had been inside her from the moment Deston had first spoken to her.


	14. Ghosts of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran gets to run, Deston acquires a new admirer, Tyrion warns Brienne, and Bran's long-awaited visitor finally arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Many, many apologies for being such a slacker. I took a break over the holidays and then was a bit late getting back into the swing of things. But fear not! I have returned LOL. Thank you all for being so patient with me and again, I'm sorry you had to wait so long.

Joanna and Tyrion stood in the tourney arena, watching as Ser Cayle fitted Bran’s horse with his new saddle. Tyrion cocked his head and walked back and forth to either side of the horse, checking for both symmetry and safety.

“How does it feel, Cayle?”

Cayle adjusted buckles and straps and made sure the horse was comfortable before stepping back to look over his handiwork.

“Looks good, feels secure,” Cayle said while looking under the horse and then adjusting the blanket under the saddle. He straightened up and looked at Tyrion. “Now all we need is for His Grace to test it.”

Tyrion and Joanna exchanged a look.

“That should be interesting,” Tyrion muttered under his breath. Joanna raised her eyebrows and nodded in agreement.

“He’ll be very sensitive about it,” she replied. “He won’t want an audience.”

“I’ve made sure only Ser Cayle, you, and Podrick be present,” Tyrion said. “We’ll make sure he’s comfortable.”

“Thank you, Uncle.”

Tyrion looked up at his niece, searching her face for what he knew to be her true feelings about Bran. Their eyes met briefly until Joanna blushed and looked away in an exact copy of her mother.

Tyrion dropped his voice so only she could hear. “I meant what I said, Joanna.”

She brought her eyes back to his face and gave him a confused look.

“When I told you I would keep your secret.”

Joanna fidgeted and looked around, making sure Cayle wasn't paying attention to them. Finally she relented and sighed, acknowledging defeat. She had been on edge ever since Bran had spoken cryptically to her the night of the feast. She was tired of hiding it. She hoped she could trust her uncle.

“Thank you, Uncle Tyrion,” she whispered. Joanna continued to stare at the ground, her brow furrowed.

“Niece? Is something else troubling you?”

She shook her head but then stopped. “Just something Bran said to me the night of the feast.”

“What was it?”

Joanna looked off into the distance as if trying to remember something. “Who would have ever thought I would love a Lannister.”

Tyrion fought to keep his face neutral. He silently cursed Bran for dropping these little nuggets and making Joanna curious. He wished the King would leave well enough alone. Stealing a look up at Joanna, he decided on what to say.

“So it's love is it? I had no idea it was so serious," he gently teased her.

Joanna blushed and nodded. "I believe so."

Tyrion sighed. "Our families weren’t exactly on the best terms back then thanks to my sweet sister and her monstrous son.”

_Blame Cersei and Joffrey…that always works._

Joanna looked down at her uncle. “Oh yes…the execution of Lord Stark.” She didn’t know much more beyond that. “I suppose I should have realized that.”

Tyrion was about to respond when Bran arrived, being attended to by Podrick. Grateful for the interruption, he raised his hand in greeting.

“Ah! Your Grace! You’re just in time, we have your saddle all ready for you to try.”

Joanna spun around and gave Bran a bright smile which he briefly returned. Ser Cayle walked over leading Bran’s horse. He smiled at the King.

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

“Cayle,” Bran returned the greeting. His eyes roamed over his horse, looking over the leg braces of his saddle. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as to how sturdy it looked. Cayle stepped forward.

“Your Grace, allow me to show you how the saddle works,” he gestured towards the braces which were secured to the saddle seat. “It’s very straightforward actually.”

Bran held up his hand. “I thank you, Ser Cayle, but there is no need. My Lord Hand here made me a similar one when I was a boy at Winterfell.”

Cayle nodded. “Apologies, Your Grace.”

“No apology necessary, Ser.” Bran looked over his shoulder. “Podrick, shall we?”

Cayle positioned Bran’s horse next to a small raised platform and held him steady. Podrick came around to the front of Bran’s wheelchair and leaned down to allow Bran to put his arms around his neck as he lifted the boy King into his arms. Joanna’s eyes met Bran’s and she gave him a small smile and an encouraging nod.

Podrick walked up onto the platform and gently lowered Bran into the saddle, whereupon Cayle and Joanna began fastening the braces around his legs. Podrick held onto Bran’s arm until he was safely situated. Once finished, Pod stood back and waited, his white cloak flapping in the morning breeze.

“How does it feel, Your Grace?” Cayle asked. “Do you feel secure?”

Bran looked around on either side of the horse. “I believe so.”

Cayle handed Bran the reins. “Whenever you feel comfortable, give it a go.”

Joanna, on the side of the horse that was obscured from the others’ views, discreetly placed her hand on Bran’s thigh. He looked down at her.

She smiled at him. “You see…as tall as any man,” she whispered.

Bran squeezed her hand and then looked up and gave the horse a gentle tap with the reins. The horse walked forward and Bran shifted around a bit using his arms, getting comfortable. He nudged the horse up to a gentle trot and began his lap around the arena.

“He’s a natural,” Joanna said wistfully, watching him. Tyrion smiled sadly.

“He liked to ride as a child.”

Once Bran was on the far side of the arena from the rest of them, he placed his hand on the side of the horse’s neck and whispered to him.

“I want to try something. I promise it won’t hurt.”

And Bran’s eyes went white.

He awoke inside the horse, taking a moment to adjust and to get a feel for the strong legs, the beating heart, the breathing lungs. He could feel the horse’s consciousness in there with him, somewhat frightened but curious as well.

“It’s alright, boy. Let’s run.”

Bran felt himself smile as the horse took off. They ran as one around the wall of the arena, and Bran could feel the powerful stride of the horse, the muscles working in its’ legs, the wind in its’ mane. He felt free, which in turn made Bran feel free as well.

Bran could vaguely hear Cayle and Tyrion’s shouts of concern and caution, but he didn’t care. He was running and he was free of his body. The horse was happy too, he could feel it.

“Alright boy, that will do…thank you.”

He warged back into his own body before he got too close to the others and let the horse bring itself to a slow trot as it returned instinctively to Cayle.

“Your Grace are you alright?” Cayle asked as he reached for the horse’s reins.

Bran smiled wide and ran his hands through his hair. “Yes, Ser Cayle, I’m perfectly alright.”

Joanna stood dumbstruck. She had never seen Bran so relaxed and happy. His hair was wind-tousled and his smile was bright. She thought she had never seen him more handsome. He looked at her and winked.

“Well done, Your Grace,” Tyrion spoke up. “We should be good to go then for the day after tomorrow for your ride out.”

Bran patted the horse’s neck as Cayle once again positioned him next to the raised platform where Podrick waited. They unhooked Bran from his saddle and Podrick carried him back to his chair. Once settled again, Bran took a deep breath and sighed happily.

“That felt wonderful.”

“I’m so glad, Your Grace,” Joanna said, arranging the blanket over Bran’s legs. “You looked wonderful, too,” she added in a whisper, her cheeks flushing like her mother’s.

Bran discreetly reached out to brush her hand before looking over at Tyrion.

“Thank you, Tyrion. I believe I can enjoy riding again.”

Tyrion smiled at him. “My pleasure, Your Grace, it’s good to see you so happy.”

It was true. Having done something he hadn’t done since he was a boy brought back a good memory. Bran felt a tiny bit like himself. He looked up at Joanna.

“Maybe this is part of it…doing things that unlock dormant memories.”

Joanna nodded. “I think so too.”

“Thank you again, Cayle,” Bran said to his Master of Horse and Kingsguard member. “That’s all for today. Podrick, please return me to the keep, I need to see my sisters.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brynna sat in her music room, plucking out a new tune on her harp. As usual she had the door open to let in the breezes, and they stirred her hair and some of her sheet music. Reaching out a hand to keep them from scattering around the room, she stopped and closed her eyes, relishing the scent of the flowers from the small courtyard opposite her door. Losing herself in the few moments of utter peace, she took a deep breath and sighed.

When she opened her eyes again, Deston Blackwood stood in her doorway, brandishing a single daisy in his hand, accompanied by his beautiful smile. Brynna felt her heart race.

“Well, good afternoon, Ser Deston,” she returned his smile. “What a wonderful surprise. Please, come in.”

“I told you I would look for you,” Deston said, blushing slightly.

“And so you have,” Brynna answered, blushing herself. Deston walked forward and offered her the flower, bowing gallantly before her.

Brynna reached out and took it, and flushed even deeper. “Thank you, Ser, it’s lovely.”

Deston looked around the room. “This is quite a collection you have here,” he said, taking note of all the different instruments laying around.

Brynna laughed her musical laugh and gestured to the chair nearest to her. “This is my sanctuary of sorts.”

Deston sat down. “So, what are you working on?”

“Nothing specific, just fiddling around really.”

Brynna studied him as he glanced over the music sheets in front of her. The dark waves of his hair fell about his neck and shoulders and Brynna found herself wanting to run her fingers through it.

“So how are you getting along so far?” She asked him. “I hope Mumma hasn’t been too hard on you.”

Deston brought his eyes up to hers and she felt her breath catch in her chest.

“Everyone has been very kind,” Deston smiled, making Brynna even more nervous.

Brynna twirled the flower between her fingers. “So, Ser Deston,” she looked up at him from under her lashes and smiled. “Tell me about your home.”

Deston leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together. “Well, there’s not much I’m afraid. I’m from Raventree Hall in the Riverlands. It’s a beautiful place…very old. There's moss growing up the stone walls and we have one of the largest weirwood trees in existence, although it's dead I'm afraid.”

Brynna's eyebrows went up. "Oh, that's too bad."

Deston leaned forward, bringing his face closer to hers. "Yes, legend has it it was poisoned by House Bracken," he whispered dramatically as if trying to solve a mystery. "For thousands of years, every evening at dusk hundreds of ravens come to roost in the tree overnight. That's how the place got its name."

“I bet that’s something to see,” Brynna replied softly, completely wrapped up in his eyes.

_I can’t even help myself, this is not very ladylike._

Deston smiled. “It is, yes,” he went on, once again sitting back in his chair. “I’m my father’s third son, so there’s not much for me to do there, which is why I came here. I thought maybe I could do more good here as the Riverlands are pretty quiet now that the wars are over.”

“Well, good Ser, I for one am very glad you’re here.”

Brynna suddenly remembered herself. She sat up straight, flustered. “I mean…I’m glad if you’re glad…if you’re happy…”

_By the Seven I’m making a complete mess of this._

“And I’m sure His Grace is pleased to have you in his service,” she finished.

Deston chuckled. “Well, it’s early days yet, but yes, I hope to make him pleased he chose me to serve.”

A flutter of movement over Deston’s shoulder caught Brynna’s eye. Looking past him she saw Arthur walk in, his face sullen and his eyes downcast.

“Well, hello, kitten,” she said to her youngest brother. “What brings you here sweetling?”

Arthur walked over to the opposite side of Brynna from where Deston was sitting. He sat himself down in a chair and crossed his arms on the table in front of him. Laying his chin down on them, he sighed.

“No one will spar with me,” he said sulkily. Brynna reached out and stroked his curls.

“Oh, sweetling, no one at all?”

“No,” Arthur said. “Papa is in a meeting and Galladon is with _Nymeria,_” he said her name sarcastically and rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue in a gagging motion.

Brynna and Deston exchanged a look and a smirk.

“Arthur, darling, you remember Ser Deston, yes?”

Arthur actually brightened a bit at seeing a knight. “Yes, you won the tourney.” He sat up and smiled.

Deston nodded and returned the grin. “I did, yes. I remember you were such a big help to your brother on that day.”

Arthur smiled shyly.

“Well, where is Ser Ashtin? He’s your master,” Brynna asked.

“He’s on duty. So is Podrick and everyone else,” Arthur was back to pouting.

“How would you like to spar with me?” Deston asked him. Arthur’s blue eyes grew wide and he gasped.

“Really? You really would?”

“Of course I would,” Deston said grandly. “From what I hear, you’re going to be a great swordsman one day.”

“Can I Brynna? Please?” Arthur begged the only authoritative familial presence near him at the moment.

Brynna giggled. “You don’t need to ask me, sweetling, of course you can.”

Arthur cheered and stood up, obviously ready to get started right away. Deston looked at Brynna and blushed again.

“I would very much like it if you accompanied us.”

“I’d very much like that as well,” she replied. “Just let me put my things away here.”

Arthur began impatiently fidgeting and running around the table, having nothing better to do with all his pent up energy. Brynna returned her harp to its stand in a corner of the room and put her sheet music away in her desk. Turning around and gesturing to the door, she reached out and grabbed Arthur by the hand in an attempt to settle him down.

“Shall we?”

They all walked outside into the breezeway, Arthur bouncing up and down while waiting for Brynna to lock the door. When she was done, Deston offered her his arm as Arthur took her other hand.

“I’m excited to see what you can do, Arthur,” Deston said. “What’s your form?”

“Two swords!” Arthur answered excitedly.

“Oh my, that is impressive,” Deston said, winking at Brynna. She blushed and smiled. “I shall have to be on my guard.”

“Speaking of being on guard, there’s to be a ball tomorrow night,” Brynna said. “Are you to be on duty?”

Deston nodded. “I am, but I’m hoping I can persuade your mother to allow me a dance or two with her daughter.”

Arthur made a noise of disgust. “Does that mean I have to dress up again?”

Brynna laughed again. “Probably, sweetling, if Mumma and Papa make you go at all.”

Arthur grumbled and sighed. “I hope they don’t. I can’t wait for all this celebrating to be over. It’s boring.”

Brynna snorted this time. “Don’t worry, darling, not too much longer now.”

They arrived at the training yard and Brynna found herself not wanting to let go of Deston’s arm. Arthur opened the door and politely held it open for them.

“I’ll go get my stuff!” Arthur exclaimed and ran off for the armory. Deston brought Brynna over to one of the benches and sat down next to her.

“Thank you for doing this, Ser,” she said to him. “It’s very sweet and I think you’ve just made a fan for life.”

“It’s my pleasure, he seems a good lad.”

Brynna nodded. “The best actually. He’s very kind and gentle…very shy as well, I’m surprised he’s so animated today, he’s usually quiet around people he doesn’t know.” She scrunched up her face then. “Come to think of it, he’s quiet around people he knows as well. He's only usually chatty with Joanna and me when he sneaks into our room late at night.”

Deston chuckled at that. “Well if that’s true, I’m honored he’s letting me spar with him.”

Brynna nodded. “He must have taken a shine to you watching you in the tourney.”

“He’s not the only one who’s taken a shine to someone recently,” Deston said, his voice dropping in both tone and volume.

Brynna’s heart leapt into her throat again. “Indeed, Ser, is that so?” She teased him.

Arthur came bounding over again, two tourney swords in his hands. “I’m ready Ser Deston!”

Deston smiled as he got to his feet. Reaching for Brynna’s hand, he brought it to his lips and softly kissed her knuckles. “I hope you’ll stay.”

Brynna became lost in his eyes again. “Of course,” she breathed.

Deston turned to Arthur and ruffled his hair. “Right then, let’s see what you can do.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The small council meeting ended shortly before supper, much to everyone’s relief as there had been quite a few rumbling stomachs around the table. One by one they filed out, heading for the dining hall. Jaime stood patiently by the door, waiting for Brienne. She stood up and was just about to push in her chair when Tyrion stopped her.

“Brienne, stay a moment if you wouldn’t mind.”

She looked down at him and drew her brows together in question. Tyrion begged her with his eyes to stay silent and comply. Brienne nodded slightly and turned to Jaime.

“Love, go on ahead, we’ll be there shortly.”

Jaime’s brows came together the way Brienne’s had seconds ago.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, brother, just a bit of quick Kingsguard business.”

Jaime nodded but Brienne could tell he wasn’t entirely satisfied. “Right, well I’ll go collect our children for supper then.”

“Thank you, love, I’ll be there soon,” Brienne gave him a reassuring nod and blew him a kiss. Jaime left, closing the door behind him. Brienne turned back and sat down.

"Tyrion, is everything alright?"

Tyrion sighed and fixed his goodsister with a stare. “I certainly hope so.”

“What is it?”

“I wanted to speak to you privately without Jaime for now.”

“Now you’re scaring me, Tyrion, are you alright? Are you well?” She reached out to take his hand.

“Oh yes, I’m fine, I didn’t mean to alarm you. I wanted to talk to you about Joanna.”

Brienne sat back in her chair. “Joanna? Has she done something wrong?”

“No, no, she would never,” Tyrion said, constantly praising and defending his niece. “But lately she’s been asking questions…about Bran’s maiming…and our time at Winterfell.”

Brienne sat stone still and looked down at the smooth surface of the table. Her voice dropped to just above a whisper. “How much does she know?”

“From what she has told me, Bran won’t tell her the details of what happened. I have only answered her direct questions, and even then I’m afraid I am guilty by omission.”

Brienne nodded. “I understand. How often has she brought this up?”

“She’s rather tenacious, I’ll give her that,” Tyrion said, smiling and winking at Brienne. “No doubt who she gets that from.”

Brienne smiled and blushed and then grew serious again. “I wonder why she’s so insistent.”

Now it was time for Tyrion to omit things from Brienne. “I couldn’t say. Natural curiosity maybe.”

_More like I **won’t** say, but again, not a complete lie._

Tyrion continued. “It started when she and I were designing Bran’s saddle. She told me she had tried to ask him about it but he told her it wasn’t entirely his story to tell.”

Brienne’s eyes widened with fear. “He needs to be more careful. He could have just told her he fell. Although I hate the fact he has to lie, nothing good can come of the truth in this case.”

“Agreed, and Jaime has worked so hard to erase his past, this would devastate him.”

Brienne looked towards the door as if she were trying to see Jaime across the Red Keep.

“My poor love,” she whispered. Turning back to Tyrion she added. “Joanna hasn’t come to Jaime or me with this at all.”

Tyrion let out a breath and looked Brienne in the eyes.

“Honestly, Brienne, what would you tell her if she did?”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I can’t tell you how happy I am you’re both here…and both staying on for a while,” Bran said to his sisters.

It was well past supper time, and the small council chambers were dark with the exception of the candles that were lit around the room. Bran had dismissed his Kingsguard from the room and now Ser Elrin and Ser Ashtin stood watch outside the closed doors.

“What exactly are we to do to help you?” Arya asked, not quite sure what Bran needed from them.

“Can you explain to us what it feels like inside your head?” Sansa followed.

Bran folded his hands together and sighed quietly.

“Chaotic,” he said with a sad smile. “Imagine being everywhere all at once, at any given point in the history of time. I need to find a way to compartmentalize it, so I can control it rather than it controlling me.”

Arya thought for a few moments. “Well, what if you sort of made a big sorting system in your head, like an apothecary’s chest. I know it sounds strange, but if you file things away according to…I don’t know…time…it may help somewhat.”

“You mentioned you wanted yourself back,” Sansa added. “Have you tried recapturing memories from our childhood in Winterfell? I know most of it wasn’t pleasant for you, however,” she said sadly.

“Actually Sansa, you’re on the right path there. Earlier today I tested out my saddle for the ride out day after tomorrow. I know this won’t make sense to you, but I warged into the horse and I could feel myself running. It felt wonderful. It brought back fond memories of riding when I was a child.”

“Warging…like you do with your ravens, yes?” Sansa asked.

Bran nodded. “Yes.”

“Can you do that with any living creature?” Sansa’s eyes went wide with unease.

“Yes, but don’t fear, I would never do it to another human unless it was to save them or without their permission. I did it to Hodor once but that was to calm him from a fit about a storm.” He decided to leave out the bit where he unintentionally made Hodor who he was.

“You said it brought back childhood memories,” Arya spoke up again. “Maybe doing more things that help recall those will help…give you more control over what you see and feel.”

“I’m hoping that’s the case. Sometimes at night when I’m trying to fall asleep, I’ll close my eyes and take myself back to listen to Old Nan tell her stories.”

Arya and Sansa both brightened at that.

“Oh, I do miss her stories,” Sansa said. “Everything was so simple back then,” she grew wistful.

“So you can go back to any time in the past?” Arya asked.

“Yes, only I’m there simply as a ghost…a spectator if you will. That’s actually how I discovered Jon’s true parentage. I saw father and Aunt Lyanna at the Tower of Joy.”

“You saw them?!” Arya exclaimed.

“I did. You look exactly like her, you know.”

Arya grew teary at that. “I do? I always wanted to know what she was like.”

Bran smiled sadly. “Strong…fierce…just like you. I also saw her wedding to Rhaegar Targaryen.”

“Amazing,” Sansa snorted. “We were always told she was kidnapped and raped. So much death and destruction built on a lie.”

“I know, and it is my solemn vow to assure nothing like that ever happens again,” Bran replied.

Arya opened her mouth to ask another question when they were interrupted by a knock on the door. Bran sighed in annoyance.

“Yes?” he said loudly.

The door opened and Ser Elrin popped his head in. “My apologies for disturbing you, Your Grace, but…there is someone here who says they must see you.”

“Now?” Sansa replied, agitated. “Do they realize the hour is late?”

Elrin nodded. “Yes, Your Grace, but as I said, they are very insistent, they say it’s urgent.”

“Fine, see them in,” Bran said.

Elren stood aside and held the door open. In walked a small slip of a girl. She looked weary from travel, and there was road dust on her clothing. It took a few moments but eventually Bran’s eyes grew wide in recognition and his mouth dropped open in shock.

The girl had forgone wearing her usual furs and in their place wore leathers instead. Her large dark eyes and mop of dark curls were unmistakable, however. She walked forward and bowed before Bran.

“Your Grace.”

When Bran was able to find his voice, it came out as nothing but an astonished whisper.

“Meera…”


	15. Kama Sutra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meera realizes why she's here. Galladon goes to some experts for advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! First off, many apologies for the long interlude. I have been studying to take my state insurance license exams, which I am happy to say that I PASSED (yay!). Unfortunately that kept me from writing, but now I'm back! I promise the updates will come fast and furious now as we are about to get into the heavy drama (woooo!). Thank you for being patient and sticking with me. We're back in the game!
> 
> In the meantime, check out this AMAZING artwork of our little Lannister brood, done by the OUTSTANDING and WONDERFUL @crescenthour / Eloise! (@bookbrienne on Twitter; @dusktint on Instagram; @knifeears on Tumblr). Be sure to check out all of her Braime artwork. She's INCREDIBLE.

L to R: Selwyn, Brynna, Alysanne, Jaime, Arianne, Arthur, Joanna, Brienne, Galladon

“Meera…”

Bran could only stare dumbfounded at his late night visitor. Arya and Sansa exchanged a glance before they both looked back at the small girl standing before them. A swift look of recognition suddenly flashed across Sansa’s face.

“Meera…Reed? Yes?” Sansa cocked her head and drew her brows together.

Meera turned to Sansa and bowed her head. “The very same, Your Grace.”

Sansa smiled. “I remember you and your father from my coronation. I am most grateful for the support and fealty of House Reed.”

Meera smiled back. “House Reed is forever loyal to the Kings and Queens of the North.”

“How does your lord father?” Sansa asked.

“Getting on in years I’m afraid,” Meera replied sadly. “I fear he may not be with us for that much longer.”

Sansa shifted in her chair. “Oh no, is he ill?”

“Not so much ill as simply old, your Grace.”

“I will have a raven sent to him to see if there is anything he requires. If so, I will have it sent from Winterfell directly.”

“That is very kind, your Grace, I’m sure he would appreciate knowing he has favor with our Queen.” Meera smiled.

“He does, and your House always will. House Reed was one of the first to swear fealty to House Stark thousands of years ago, and I would not see that bond broken for anything,” Sansa said.

Arya looked over at her sister, impressed and touched by how regally she carried herself now.

“So, how…why…how is it that you’re here?” Bran stuttered over his words, for once not in complete control of a situation. Meera gestured to an empty seat at the small council table.

“May I?”

“Oh yes, I’m sorry, please do,” Bran gestured at the same chair. Meera sat and folded her hands on the table. She looked around at three rather confused yet curious Starks.

“Well, _how_ I’m here is that I traveled all the way from Greywater Watch. As to why I’m here…I’m still trying to piece that together. All I know is I’ve been dreaming of you for months and I don’t know why. I think the weirwoods are trying to tell me something. They kept telling me I needed to be here to help you, but I’m not sure why or what it is you need.”

Bran smiled and shook his head. “I knew it. I could feel someone was coming to help me, I just didn’t know who.”

Meera looked at him. “So you’ve known too?”

Bran nodded. “Yes.”

Arya and Sansa exchanged a glance. Completely out of their depth, they just observed.

“So, what is it you need help with?” Meera asked.

Bran held up a hand. “Before we dive into all that…Ser Elrin!”

The door opened and the kingsguardsman entered. “Your Grace?”

“Can you please see to it that we are brought some refreshments? I have a feeling this is going to be a long night. Assorted meats, cheeses, fruits, bread, ale, cider and whatever cake or pie they have in storage at the moment. Our guest is most likely very tired from her journey and in need of sustenance.”

Elrin bowed. “At once, Your Grace.” And he was gone again.

Meera turned back to Bran. “Thank you, that would be most welcome.”

“I will also have a set of rooms made up for you,” Bran continued. “How long do you think you’ll be staying?”

“Well, I suppose that depends on you and whatever it is I’m here for,” Meera said, smiling.

Bran sat back and sighed. “I want to be human again.”

Meera crinkled her brow. “How do you mean?”

“Ever since I became the Three-Eyed Raven, my mind hasn’t been my own,” Bran continued. “There is so much going on in my head and I need a way to organize it and be able to control it…not it controlling me.”

Meera nodded. “Alright, well…” she stopped and thought for several moments. “The way to calm the mind is usually to focus on something that brings you peace. Once the mind relaxes, the body will follow and you’ll be more in control to work on whatever is troubling you.”

“What about if you had something specific to focus on in order to get you to relax into a meditative state,” Sansa offered. “Maybe focus on your ultimate goal, or a reason for that goal.”

Bran smiled and looked at his hands in his lap. “I do have a reason, a very good one actually.”

Arya raised her eyebrows. “Oh really, brother? What?”

Bran looked up at her and smirked. “For right now, I’d prefer to keep that to myself.”

Arya and Sansa immediately started to whine. “Nooooo! Tell us!” “Bran that’s not fair, come on!” They talked over each other as he chuckled.

“You’ll know when the time is right, believe me,” Bran said, holding up his hands trying to calm his inquisitive sisters.

“Alright well that’s a good place to start,” Meera interjected. “I think I have a few ideas of where we can take it.”

Bran grinned again. “Wonderful, I’m looking forward to it.” Pleased that he finally had the beginnings of a plan in place, he turned the conversation towards food. “For tonight, let’s just eat and let Meera get settled.”

They waited and made small talk until their meal arrived. In addition to the things Bran had asked for, a few small warmed meat pies were also included. Meera smiled wide at the feast before her.

“Oh this looks wonderful, thank you,” she said dreamily, eyeing up the spread.

“Many thanks Ser Elrin,” Bran said to his kingsguardsman, who was waiting to make sure everything was satisfactory before resuming his post. “And please, make sure the kitchen staff knows of my appreciation and my gratitude.”

Elrin bowed. “Very well, Your Grace, enjoy your meal everyone,” he smiled and left the room again.

“You have a really great kingsguard,” Arya said, reaching for some food. “Every one of them are kind, hard-working, and all obviously very devoted to you.”

“They are the best I could ever ask for,” Bran answered. “Every single one of them.” He took a bite of one of the meat pies and chewed silently for a few moments. “And it has always been my goal and my duty to be a good king for them…for everyone.”

“I’d say you’ve done more than a fair job, brother,” Sansa said, picking pieces of cheese apart with her fingers. “This is the most peaceful the realm has ever been I believe, and certainly one of the longest stretches of time as well.”

“And I fully intend for it to remain that way,” Bran replied, munching on a piece of bread.

“Now, now, brother,” Sansa tutted him. “We don’t want to appear a tyrant now, do we?” She chuckled.

Bran gave her a playful sneer. “No, sister, we do not.”

Meera laughed and took another mouthful of one of the meat pies. “Thank you for this, I’m finally starting to feel warm again.”

Arya yawned deeply and stretched her arms out to the sides. “Well, I think I’m off. It’s rather late, I miss my husband and I want to curl up with him and get warm.” She stood up and leaned down to kiss Bran on the top of his head.

“Good night, brother,” moving to Sansa she repeated the gesture. “Good night, sister.” Turning to Meera she bowed slightly. “Lady Reed, I will see you on the morrow.”

“Good night,” the other three said in unison. Arya slipped out, said good night to Ser Elrin and was gone.

Meera looked up from eating to glance at Bran and Sansa. Nodding, she began to put the pieces together.

“Well, now I know why I’m here and why I’ve been dreaming of you,” she said as a smile crept across her face. “This is going to work. I can feel it.”

Bran smiled back. “Of course it is…why do you think you came all this way?”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Good! You’re getting better,” Nymeria said to Galladon as he managed to keep up with her in the training yard. As she had promised him, they had been training a little bit each day in combining her water dancing style of fighting with his standard Westerosi combat tactics.

Galladon brushed a sweaty lock of hair out of his eyes and grinned at her. They had been at it for roughly three hours that morning, and the training yard was starting to fill up with the early afternoon crowd, including the gaggle of ladies who came to gawk at the fighters each day. Nymeria looked around and heaved a sigh.

“I suppose that’s enough for today,” she mused, tucking her helmet under her arm and pulling her leather gloves off. Galladon merely stood there watching her. When Nymeria gave him a sideways glance and a smirk, he flinched and looked away, blushing.

Galladon smiled at his feet and sauntered over to one of the benches. He sat down and pretended to fiddle with his greaves while sneaking glances at Nymeria. She was standing watching the ladies filing in, taking note of how their eyes all went to Galladon…and then the giggling and whispering started. Lannia Fossoway, however, was not laughing.

She was looking mournfully at Galladon with sad eyes. Nymeria felt a pang of sadness and sympathy for Lannia, as she knew life for a girl in this world wasn’t likely to be a pleasant one, especially when the one you wanted was out of reach and you would be forced to endure a marriage you hated. Most daughters were sold off to lords of houses as property, no matter how old they were. No matter how old the lords were either, as a matter of fact. Nymeria was thankful that Arya and Gendry would never do that to her, but she realized she was one of the lucky ones. Besides, Arya had taught her numerous ways of killing a man with just her bare hands or a small knife.

It was quite obvious to her that Lannia pined for Galladon, and had most likely seen him as a way out of a trapped life. If only Lannia knew Galladon was looking to avoid the same thing. Lannia eventually noticed Nymeria staring at her, and Nymeria attempted to give her a timid smile, but Lannia simply glowered at her and turned away. Nymeria sighed and walked over to sit down next to Galladon.

“Well, Golden Boy, I don’t think your lady loves are any closer to welcoming me with open arms.”

Galladon looked up. “Who?”

Nymeria gestured with her chin over to where the ladies usually gathered. Galladon looked over to where the ladies were whispering and eyeing up all the fighters in the yard. He snorted and went back to removing his greaves.

“They’re not my lady loves, believe me,” he muttered. “I couldn’t have that kind of life.”

“And what kind of life is that?” Nymeria asked him.

Galladon sat up and sighed. “Sold off as a breeding stud for my family name,” he said bitterly. “Shackled for life to a woman who bores the shit out of me, who only cares about having me on her arm so she can brag to others, who only has interests in fine dresses and whatever the latest fashionable hairstyle is.”

“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” Nymeria teased him.

“When you have multiple ladies of the court attempting to get you to take their maidenheads so they can trap you by getting a bastard on them so you’ll have to marry them…yes I’ve thought it through quite a bit.”

Nymeria gave him a fake pout and batted her eyelashes dramatically. “Poor Golden Boy…everyone wants to bed you.”

Galladon glared at her and snorted again. “I know it sounds so glamorous,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Is it so bad to want someone who wants to know about you? What you like? What you don’t? To treat you like an equal instead of a piece of meat?” He shifted on the bench to face her directly. “You must know what it’s like. I’m sure you have Stormlands boys falling all over themselves for a chance to win you.”

Nymeria looked at her hands in her lap and nodded. “They try, yes.”

Galladon was suddenly afraid. “Do…do you…have…someone back home? Are you promised to anyone?” The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Nymeria smirked at the fearful look in his wide blue eyes. Chuckling softly she shook her head. “No. I suppose like you, I’m waiting for the right one.”

Galladon released a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “Oh, good,” he whispered. “Uh, I mean, it’s good that you’re taking your time. Make sure you find someone you like.” He blushed again.

She fixed him with her grey eyes and smiled at him. Galladon felt his heart flutter. Nymeria would never admit it, but she loved to fluster him. The truth was she was very attracted to him, and she found his innocence extremely alluring. He was obviously aware of the effect he had on the ladies, but he seemed almost insulted by it. Most men who had such sway over women would usually strut around like a peacock and take his pick of whatever he wanted. Galladon instead seemed to shun such practices. He was definitely an interesting enigma.

Nymeria crossed her legs on the bench and nudged herself closer to him. Now fully facing him, she watched his reaction, as his pupils dilated and his pulse quickened at his throat. Testing the waters, she reached out and placed her hand over his where it rested on his thigh, trying to calm him down. She heard him take in a breath and his hand twitched.

“What is it you _are_ looking for?” She softly asked him.

Galladon looked down at where her hand rested atop his.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged shyly. Deciding to see how far he could push her boldness, Galladon slowly reached out with his other hand and lightly traced circles on the back of her hand with his index finger. The touch sent jolts through Nymeria.

“Someone who wants to know me for who I am, not what I look like or what my family can do for them,” he said quietly, still gazing at their hands. “Someone I can have long talks with deep into the night about anything and everything. Likes, dislikes, shared hobbies, favorite foods,” he chuckled at that. “Someone like…someone like…” he swallowed hard.

“Me?” Nymeria said softly, squeezing the hand underneath hers.

Galladon gasped and looked up into her eyes. His bottom lip trembled as he fought to steady his nerves. Eventually he found his voice. “Yes,” he whispered. “Someone just like you.” He raised one corner of his mouth in a typically Lannister smirk. “In fact…just you.”

Nymeria didn’t pull away nor even flinch. She merely smiled in return and reached up to brush one of his golden curls behind his ear. Reacting quickly, Galladon brought his hand up to cover hers and placed it on his cheek. They sat staring at each other, the electricity between them palpable to both of them. So slowly it was barely noticeable, Galladon turned his face to place a soft kiss on the inside of her palm, never once taking his eyes off of hers.

Now it was Nymeria’s turn to gasp. Her eyes were lit with a fire that both scared Galladon and thrilled him to his core. He suddenly became aware again of where they were and whose eyes may be watching.

“Nym, can I show you something?”

She nodded. Galladon stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll come for you at your rooms.”

“Alright,” Nymeria whispered, still looking into his eyes.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Galladon opened the door to his private little garden and held the door open for Nymeria to walk through. Making her way into the overgrown, yet serene space, she looked all around and turned to face him.

“This is amazing,” she said with a grin. “It’s so peaceful. How did you find it?” She reached up to play with a few of the hanging vines that had claimed the small courtyard.

Galladon smiled and shrugged. “I just sort of stumbled across it one day.” He walked over to the small bench and sat down. “When I was younger I was always running around the Keep looking for new things or hidden passageways. Mumma would get so angry with me,” he chuckled.

“I just found it one day,” he continued. “I like to come here and hide sometimes…among other things.” Galladon blushed. Nymeria cocked an eyebrow.

“Other things, huh?” She walked over and sat next to him.

The vines and other plants that had overgrown the small courtyard let very little sunlight in. There was enough to see the surroundings but it was mostly in shade. Galladon snuck a look at Nymeria and noted that in this dim light, her eyes looked more smoky grey.

Nymeria looked around. “Well, there’s not much light in here, so I doubt you come here for reading,” she snarked.

Galladon snorted and shook his head. “No, definitely not.”

“So, what did you want to show me?”

Galladon looked around and waved his hand. “Just this, I thought you might find it peaceful like I do.”

Nymeria nodded. “Well, yes, it is that. I’m surprised no one else ever uses it.”

“I’m not sure anyone even knows it’s here, or cares.”

_Except for the ladies I brought here._

Galladon looked down at his hands, suddenly afraid to meet her gaze.

“Maybe I can show you something,” Nymeria whispered. Galladon looked up at her again and his heart started to pound. He swallowed nervously and clenched his hands into fists to keep them from trembling.

“Al…alright,” he whispered back.

Without another word, Nymeria got up off the bench and moved to stand in front of him. They looked into each other’s eyes for several moments before she gently reached down and took Galladon’s hands in hers. Moving his arms out to his sides, Nymeria put her legs on either side of him and straddled his lap, letting her feet dangle off the back side of the bench. Once she was settled she guided his hands to her hips and placed them there, resting her own hands on top of his.

“How’s that?” She whispered at him again, fixing him with a grey gaze.

Galladon’s entire body was trembling and his breath came out in shaky wisps. Nymeria smiled softly at him and placed one of her hands over his heart.

“Relax, Golden Boy, I’m not going to bite you. Unless you’re into that sort of thing,” she smirked at him and raised an eyebrow.

Galladon laughed nervously. “I…uh…I don’t know actually.”

Nymeria reached up and gently brushed his hair back from his forehead. “You know you have really pretty eyes. So blue.”

Galladon blushed and smiled. “Thank you. They’re my mother’s. She says it’s a Tarth family trait.”

“What does she use while you have them?”

Galladon laughed at that and Nymeria smiled, putting him at ease. Feeling bolder now, he gently dug his fingers into her hips and pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist when he had her where he wanted her. When he spoke again, his voice dropped in pitch and volume.

“You have pretty eyes too…like a winter sky right before it snows.”

Nymeria wrapped an arm around his shoulders while continuing to play with his hair with her other hand. She leaned her face closer to him until their noses were almost touching.

“I hope you don’t think I’m being too forward,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t want you to think I’m a trollop. I don’t ever do this but you…you severely…_interest_ me.”

“Oh I do, do I?” Galladon smirked as he rubbed the tip of her nose with his. “I must admit you’re quite intriguing as well. I’ve never met anyone like you. It’s like you walked out of a dream.”

Nymeria slanted her head and rubbed the side of her nose along his, their lips mere inches apart.

“What would people say if they saw us like this?” She purred at him. Galladon’s body responded very differently this time.

_Ugh, not now, cock._

“Not to worry, my lady, I would not presume to dishonor you. I will take no lady’s virtue before marriage.”

“You surprise me more and more by the minute, Golden Boy,” she smiled again and moved an inch closer. “How do you feel about kissing, though?”

Galladon gave her a sultry smile and made a small growl in his throat. _“That,_ my lady, I very much like doing.”

And he showed her.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later Galladon lay in his bed, tossing and turning, not able to sleep. He couldn’t get Nymeria’s face out of his head, nor the feel of her against his body, her lips against his. They had stayed in his private garden for another hour or so that afternoon, just kissing and exploring each other.

_THAT is what they sing about in songs. I knew it had to be true._

They had eaten supper with their families, giving each other knowing glances and touching hands under the table when no one was looking. When it had been time for everyone to retire to their respective rooms, Galladon found himself wishing he could follow her and hide in her wardrobe until Arya and Gendry had gone to sleep so that he and Nymeria could continue their explorations. Galladon felt his heart had been freed and he wanted nothing more than to be around Nymeria all the time. Even now he was thinking of ways to sneak into her room.

He huffed in frustration and rolled over onto his side, staring at the surroundings in his dim bedroom. After having Nymeria pressed up against his body most of the afternoon, he found himself wanting to fully succumb to her naked as well. However, he stood by his self-made vows that he would not dishonor her before marrying her. The problem was he wondered how far he could go without crossing that line. Also, how far would she be willing to go?

_I will not have anyone call her names or make assumptions about her. I will defend her at every turn if I have to. But gods…I really want to feel her._

He had pleasured himself earlier thinking about her but it still left him restless. Once again, his cock began to stir as he pictured them entwined together, her head thrown back in ecstasy, groaning his name as he buried himself inside her, his mouth all over her chest and neck…her raven black hair falling all around his face and shoulders.

_Stop it, Galladon, this isn’t gentlemanly behavior._

He was interrupted from his thoughts by a noise coming from outside his room, somewhere in the living area he shared with his brother. Selwyn’s bedroom was on the opposite side of the large common area that contained their main hearth, small dining table and various seating areas.

Sitting up, he got out of bed and padded barefoot over to his bedroom door and slowly opened it. The common area was dim, but the moonlight from the windows and the patio doors enabled him to see Selwyn attempting to tiptoe across the floor to the door. Upon Galladon opening his bedroom door, Selwyn flinched and jumped, the hood of his cloak falling back and his hand jumping to his heart.

“For fuck’s sake, Gall, don’t do that,” Selwyn whispered through gritted teeth.

“What are you doing? Where are you sneaking off to?”

“Who are you? Mum?” Selwyn scoffed at his older brother. “Not that it matters but I think you know where I’m going.” He once again made for the door.

Suddenly struck with an idea, Galladon rushed forward. “Wait, wait, I want to go with you.”

Selwyn turned and raised his eyebrows. “You want to go with me? You’re japing, right? What are you doing to do this time? Have tea with them?”

Galladon shook his head and glared at Selwyn. “No, I’m not japing. Give me a few seconds to get my things.” He disappeared back into his room while Selwyn stood there dumbfounded. After a few moments Galladon reappeared fully dressed with a large sack slung over his shoulder. Selwyn made a face.

“What…are you going to spend a sennight there?”

“Shut up and let’s go.” Galladon shoved his brother out the door.

They went out through the back gardens like last time and were soon walking down Dragon’s Way.

“So what in seven hells is in that bag?” Selwyn asked.

Galladon merely shrugged. “Gifts.”

Selwyn let out a laugh. _“Gifts?_ For what exactly?”

“Does there need to be a reason?” Galladon snapped back. “I think it’s nice to make them feel like ladies. Also it’s a thank you for being kind to me…and I also need some advice from them,” that last part he muttered quietly.

“Oh really?” Selwyn’s eyebrows went up, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “Finally going to let Nymeria have a go at you, eh?” He playfully nudged his brother and threw his arm around Galladon’s shoulders.

Galladon blushed and wriggled away. “Knock it off,” he said, the hint of an embarrassed smile touching his lips.

They arrived at the brothel, the same plain door with two small lanterns burning on either side. Selwyn pushed the door open and they went inside. Galladon immediately started looking for the faces he knew. He found Feresa right away, standing against a wall chatting with another girl he didn’t recognize. He spotted Anari as well, but he couldn’t locate Tana or Giya. He managed to catch Feresa’s eye and he waved excitedly at her.

Selwyn rolled his eyes and shook his head as Feresa made her way over to them, chuckling at Galladon’s enthusiastic innocence.

“Well, hello boys, nice to see you again,” she said with a bright smile. Leaning over, she gave Galladon a chaste and friendly kiss on his cheek. “Galladon, I was wondering if you’d ever grace us with your presence again.”

Galladon beamed a smile. “Where are the others? I have some news for you all,” he patted his bag. “Plus some gifts.” He looked as excited as if it were his own name day. “I saw Anari here somewhere.”

Feresa laughed incredulously at him. “Gifts? Oh, Galladon, you’re much too pure for this world, it’s very refreshing.” She raised her hand and called to Anari, who eventually made her way over.

“Galladon! Hello, sweetling,” she also gave him a quick peck on his cheek. He blushed and turned to give Selwyn a smugly triumphant grin. Selwyn smiled and shook his head, clapped his brother on the back and went off in search of Ilesha and Nilone.

“I’ll see you in a while, Gall.”

Galladon nodded and quickly ushered Anari and Feresa over to one of the sofas. He plopped himself down and they sat on either side of him.

“So what has you all excited there, love?” Feresa asked.

“Tana!” Anari suddenly called out, having seen the redhead coming out from a room in the back of the parlor. Anari waved her over. "Tana, look who came to visit."

“Hello, sweetling,” Tana said, perching herself on the table in front of them, crossing her legs underneath her.

“Is Giya here?” Galladon asked, looking around for her.

“She’s busy,” Feresa said, throwing Galladon a wink.

Galladon blushed again. “Ah…well that’s alright.” He took a deep breath and bit his bottom lip while smiling. “Ladies, I’ve met someone.”

Tana sat forward. “Oh, I do love good gossip.”

"And I was knighted as well! I came in second in the grand tourney," he beamed proudly.

Feresa looked impressed. "Well, congratulations, _Ser."_

Galladon grinned and then suddenly remembered the bag he had brought. “Oh, before I forget, I brought you each a little something.” He reached into the bag and began rummaging around as the girls looked at each other with bewildered yet amused looks.

Galladon came up with a jar and presented it to Anari. “This is a salve made by our Grand Maester.” Anari took the jar from his hand and looked it over. “My father uses it whenever his arm and leg get sore due to changes in the weather. I figured you might be able to use it for your healing practices.”

“Why thank you, sweetling, that was very thoughtful of you,” Anari said, opening the jar and taking a sniff. Mint and eucalyptis immediately assaulted her senses and she sat back wide-eyed and wrinkling her nose. “By the gods, that’s potent.”

“Use it sparingly,” Galladon added. “A small application goes far.”

“So noted, thank you darling,” Anari said, rolling the jar back and forth in her hands.

Galladon turned to Tana. Reaching back in his bag he pulled out a few bags of different spices and handed them to her. “These are exotic spices from Essos…I thought you might like to use them in some of your dishes.”

Tana’s face lit up. “From Essos? Truly?” She squealed and clapped her hands together. “Oh, Galladon, these are wonderful! Thank you, love!” She closed her eyes and inhaled a large sniff of each one, sighing in pleasure. “These will be heavenly in some of my meat pies and my breads.”

“And for _you,”_ he said to Feresa, pulling out a bolt of the crimson velvet fabric that their House Lannister feast garb had been made from. “Some new fabric. I thought you might want to make some new clothes for you and your children.”

Feresa’s eyes grew misty as she reached out and reverently stroked the soft velvet. “Oh, Galladon,” she whispered. “I don’t have words. No one has ever…” she looked up at him and suddenly launched herself at him, hugging him tightly around the neck. “Thank you.”

Galladon chuckled and hugged her back when they were suddenly interrupted by the Madam. Galladon released Feresa and stood up, bowing slightly.

“Good evening, my lady,” he said politely. The Madam eyed him up and down and smirked.

“Oh, it you again, the gentleman.”

Galladon blushed and looked at his feet. “Yes, my lady.”

“And what are you three doing?” the Madam addressed Anari, Feresa, and Tana.

Anari looked up and sat back against the back of the sofa and gestured at Galladon. “Entertaining a customer.” She looked up at the Madam with an expression that dared her to challenge her.

“Oh, my apologies,” Galladon said, reaching into his belt pouch to come up with three golden dragons. Reaching out he dropped them into the Madam’s hand. “For their time.”

The Madam jingled the coins in her hand and looked back at him. She smiled and sighed. “It’s your coin.” She went on about her business.

Anari reached up to pull Galladon back down onto the sofa. “So, who is this mystery woman?”

Galladon blushed again and broke out into a huge grin. Tana and Feresa leaned in to listen.

“Her name is Nymeria, and she’s incredible.”

“Nymeria,” Tana said. “Strong name.”

“She lives up to her name,” Galladon added. “She’s a strong fighter.”

“What does she look like?” Feresa asked.

Galladon sighed and his face took on a dreamy look. “Hair as black as a raven’s wing, pale grey eyes…eyes like a winter sky right before it snows.” He loved saying that phrase.

Tana snickered. “Oh sweetling, you have it bad,” she teased him.

Galladon laughed. “You’re right, I do, I freely admit it.”

“So, what makes her different from all the others?” Anari asked.

“Everything,” he went on. “She didn’t even care who I was when we met. She’s interested in who I am and what I like, not what my name is or my face.”

“So, have you fucked her yet?” Tana asked, waggling her eyebrows.

Galladon looked completely scandalized. “Certainly not! I will not dishonor her before marriage.”

“Oh, so you’re marrying her, are you?” Feresa chimed in again.

“I hope to someday...if she'll have me.”

“But you won’t fuck her,” Tana prodded him again.

Galladon sighed in annoyance. “No, I won’t.” He suddenly seemed lost in thought. “Although I want to. I want to do a lot of things with her,” he cracked a smile then. “But I will not risk her reputation nor her maidenhead.” He shrugged. “It just isn’t right.”

“Well, you’ve kissed her at least, yes?” Anari asked.

Galladon’s cheeks went pink and he nodded shyly. “Yes, quite a lot actually. I love kissing.” He blushed even deeper. He was so much like his mother in that respect.

“Well, there you go then, that’s a start,” Anari continued. “Sweetling, there is _so_ much more you can do besides just fucking.”

Galladon brightened. “Really?”

Anari snorted. “Of course. You have hands, pretty lips, a tongue,” she winked at him. “There’s plenty she can do to you as well to keep you satisfied until you finally do come around to fucking each other.”

Galladon’s eyebrows went up in shocked innocence. Feresa covered a laugh behind her hand and reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I was right. You really are too good for this world,” she said seriously. “There should be many more like you, you’re a good man.” She reached up to pat his curls.

Tana suddenly shot up from the table. “I know what you need. Wait here I’ll be right back.”

“What is she doing?” Feresa asked.

Anari shrugged. “I don’t know.” She turned back to Galladon. “Don’t worry, sweetling, we’ll give you pointers and different things to try out on your lady love. We’ll have her singing your praises in no time.”

“As long as it doesn’t dishonor her.” Galladon had to admit he had a wicked thrill running through him. If he could show Nymeria how much he loved her without taking her maidenhead, he would more than happily give it a try. The question was, would she be willing to let him?

Tana reappeared and very unceremoniously dropped a book in Galladon’s lap. He flinched and looked up at her.

“What’s this?”

Tana merely gestured at it. Galladon picked it up and looked over the cover.

“The Dornish Book of Pleasure,” his eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open.

“Ohhhh, good idea, Tana,” Anari said. She elbowed Galladon’s arm. “That’s good advice in there.”

Galladon slowly opened the book, looking as if it was going to explode in his hands. He started flipping through the pages, his eyes growing wider with each picture he saw.

At one point he picked the book up and turned it sideways. “Oh,” he said softly. Then his eyes snapped open wide.

“OH…”


	16. Checkmate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran finally makes his love for Joanna known to outside parties, and also begins his journey to regain his humanity. Joanna meets Meera. Oh, and Brynna thrashes Tyrion at chess.

“Check.”

Tyrion scowled and looked over the chessboard. “How did you…?”

He looked over the pieces for a few moments longer before looking up to fix Brynna with a mocking glare. Brynna smiled and giggled.

“Sorry, Uncle.”

“You are most certainly _not_ sorry, you sneak,” Tyrion said as he moved his king one space to the left. Brynna giggled again and shrugged at him as if to say “maybe”.

Tyrion watched Brynna as she studied the board, thinking out her next move. She scrunched up her brow just like Brienne did whenever she was wrestling with a dilemma, and Tyrion couldn’t help but smile.

“You have such a keen mind, niece. Are you sure I can’t convince you to take up politics with me?”

Brynna shook her head. “Ohhhh no. I have no stomach for all that. I much prefer the trappings and serenity of my music.”

“Well, we’re all thankful for that,” Tyrion replied. “For this world would be very dull without it.”

Brynna cocked her head at him and smiled. “Why, thank you, Uncle.” She shifted in her chair and crossed her legs underneath her. “Besides, you have Selwyn who already follows you around like a pup, you don’t need me as well.”

Tyrion laughed at that. “He follows Davos around more than me these days. He longs for a life at sea, I think.”

Brynna nodded. “He does. I’m glad he’s found a good man such as Davos to learn from. Davos is kind and will look after him.”

“Your brother is quite a handful though,” Tyrion continued. “Especially to your parents.” He chuckled.

“He is that, yes, but there’s always one in the bunch, right?”

“Ah yes,” Tyrion sighed wistfully. “That was me once.”

Brynna chuckled as she and Tyrion exchanged a few more moves.

“Check,” Brynna said again. Tyrion grumbled a few curses and tried to get himself out of trouble once more.

“Sooo…quite a handsome and noble young man, that Ser Deston, hmm?”

Brynna looked up at him and smirked. “No trying to distract me, Uncle, that’s cheating.”

Tyrion gasped and put his hand to his chest. “Me? I would never, I’m honestly interested, sweetling. I need to know if I have to enforce my protective uncle rights over you.”

Brynna tittered. “No, Uncle, there’s no need for that.” She smiled wistfully. “He’s very kind and honorable. A perfect gentleman.”

“Good, he better be, or he’ll have me to answer to,” Tyrion joked. “If he gets past your father, that is.”

“Papa likes him,” Brynna chastised him. “So does Mumma. And Galladon.”

“I know, sweetling, he’s a good man, I’m just japing,” Tyrion made another move on the chessboard. “And where is the good Ser today?”

“On duty, I’ll see him for supper this evening.”

“Oh, so he’s to eat with us now, is he? I shall have to grill him about his intentions.”

“You most certainly will not!” Brynna laughed as she objected.

Tyrion winked at her and reached for a piece of bread from the remainder of their lunch. He and Brynna made it a point to have lunch and a chess match together at least once a week when Tyrion had a break in his daily meetings. He loved spending time with his nieces and nephews when he could. They treated him like a second father and it warmed his heart.

“Ah hah! Checkmate!” Brynna cried triumphantly.

“Dammit,” Tyrion muttered. “You’re lucky I don’t have time for a rematch,” he sighed and slumped in his chair. “I have to go back for another meeting.”

“Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

Tyrion put the chessboard away and gathered his scrolls. Brynna grabbed an apple from their lunch plate and waited for him at the door.

They walked together from the Tower of the Hand back towards the small council chambers, making small talk and exchanging greetings with those they passed.

“Uncle, can I ask you something?” Brynna said tentatively.

“Of course, sweetling, anything.”

Brynna frowned and fought for how to attack this subject. She sighed.

_For Joanna._

“Do you know how His Grace was…injured?” She asked Tyrion, her voice low so no one would hear.

Tyrion did his best not to react.

_Why is everyone suddenly so interested in this? Joanna must have gotten to her._

He cleared his throat and prepared to lie to yet another of his nieces.

“He fell from a tower at Winterfell.”

“That’s all?”

Tyrion looked up at her and snorted. “That’s _all?_ That’s quite a lot if you ask me.”

“Yes, yes, of course that is quite horrible,” Brynna said, a pained expression on her face. “I was just wondering if there was more to it.”

“Why is it no matter where I go, I’m surrounded by Lannisters?” Bronn’s voice echoed down the hall. Tyrion had never happier to see Bronn in his life.

Brynna looked up and smiled. “Just lucky, I suppose.”

Bronn walked up to them and kissed Brynna on the cheek. “Hello, darling.”

Brynna had a way of captivating everyone she knew. Even crass, crude Bronn turned into a gentleman whenever he was in her presence. He offered Brynna his arm as they continued walking on.

“Ser Bronn,” Tyrion said.

“Lord Hand.”

Bronn then turned to Brynna. “What are you doing spending time with this lout?”

Brynna laughed. “Beating him at chess.”

Tyrion scowled at both of them. Brynna reached out to affectionately stroke his hair.

“Is that Ser Deston treating you well?” Bronn asked. “If not, you just let me know and I’ll take care of him.”

“You’d have to get in line for that,” Tyrion quipped. “There are plenty of us ready to go to war for our little Brynna here.”

“You silly men,” she teased. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and Ser Deston is a perfect gentleman, as I’ve already told you, Uncle.”

“Good,” Bronn said, patting her hand where it rested in the crook of his elbow. “Just make sure he stays that way.”

Brynna sighed loudly and rolled her eyes. She suddenly brightened as they arrived at the doors to the small council chambers, where Ser Deston happened to be standing on duty, with Bran already being inside. Deston’s face lit up when he saw her run towards him.

Brynna took his hand and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek.

“Well, this is a nice surprise,” Deston said, bowing and kissing her hand in return. He then bowed to Tyrion and Bronn.

“Lord Tyrion, Ser Bronn.”

“Ser Deston,” Tyrion answered, making his way through the council chamber doors, followed by Bronn, who nodded and winked at Deston on his way by.

Brynna smiled and turned back to her love. “How is your day going?” She held both of his hands in hers.

“Better now,” he answered, smiling back at her, rubbing the back of her hands with his thumbs.

“Hello, darling,” Jaime suddenly appeared. Brynna turned around and burst into another bright smile.

“Papa!” She threw her arms around him as he hugged her back and kissed her on the top of her blonde waves.

“Did you beat your uncle in chess again?”

“Yes,” she giggled.

“That’s my girl,” Jaime said proudly. Brynna kept her arms around her father and laid her head on his shoulder. Keeping his stump around her shoulders, Jaime reached out to shake Deston’s hand.

“Deston,” he smiled at the young knight, knowing how much he meant to his daughter.

Deston took Jaime’s hand. “Ser.”

Jaime sighed and looked through the council chamber doors. “I do hate these meetings. I’d much rather be pestering your mother.”

“Where is she?”

“In the training yard with Podrick, Arthur, and Garrad.”

“Maybe I’ll go down and see them,” Brynna said. “I can’t stand around here all day distracting Ser Deston.”

“No, you can’t,” Jaime said as fatherly as he could. Brynna shook her head and looked into the council chamber. “Same time next week, Uncle?”

Tyrion looked up from his place at the head of the table and gave her a playful frown. “Yes, yes. I’ll be anxiously awaiting my next thrashing.” He and Brynna blew a kiss to each other.

Jaime laughed. “I must admit it is amusing to see someone finally outwit you.”

“Oh, be quiet, I don’t need you adding your two coins.”

Jaime chuffed and once again kissed Brynna on her head. “I’ll see you at supper, darling, tell your mother I love her and I miss her.”

“Papa, I’m sure you just saw her not more than fifteen minutes ago.”

“That’s not the point.” Jaime made his way inside.

Tyrion watched as Brynna bid goodbye to Deston before wandering off to see her mother and brother. He once again thought about how lucky it was that Bronn turned up when he did. He was feeling horribly guilty about lying to Joanna and now Brynna as well. He really wished people would stop asking about Bran.

_Nothing good can come of it._

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two days later in the godswood, Brienne and Bran sat quietly, eating their usual snacks. The sun was out and shone brightly down on them but there was a chill in the air. Bran adjusted the furs across his legs.

“You’re rather quiet today,” Brienne noted.

“Am I?” Bran replied. “You mean more than usual?” He chuckled softly.

Brienne smiled. “I suppose,” she took a bite of apple. “Is everything alright?”

Bran looked down at the food spread across his lap. Plucking a date into his mouth, he then sighed as he chewed. Brienne watched him closely. Finally, he looked up at her.

“Brienne, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Brienne tried to ignore the fact that her stomach had just dropped due to the seriousness of his tone. Swallowing nervously, she managed to maintain her composure.

“Alright,” she said softly.

Bran shifted himself to better face her straight on. Lacing his fingers together, he leaned forward towards her.

“Brienne I…I…” he took another deep breath and decided to start with a different approach. “You know Meera Reed is here, yes? She is an old friend of my family’s and she went with me on my journey Beyond the Wall to find the Three-Eyed Raven.”

Brienne nodded. “I am aware, yes.”

“Along with my sisters, Meera has been helping me to get some control over my gifts…to help me regain my humanity, if you will.”

Brienne’s brow creased in concern. “I hope it is going well for you.”

“Meera has hope that it will. She says the key is to focus on a reason…a reason for wanting to succeed.”

“That sounds like smart advice as far as I can tell,” Brienne offered a hopeful smile. “Did you come up with a reason?”

Bran nodded. “I have.” He reached over and took Brienne’s hands in his, surprising her, but she let him do what he needed to be comfortable. He took a deep breath and looked up into her eyes. “Joanna is my reason.”

Brienne blinked. “Joanna?”

“Yes. I…love her.”

Brienne’s eyes went wide for a brief second. “You love her?” She felt like a parrot.

Bran nodded. “There’s more…she loves me too.”

This time Brienne’s mouth fell open as well. Bran remained quiet and gave her time to process what he had just said. He watched as her face went through a range of emotions…from shock, to confusion, to a slight look of bewilderment, and finally understanding.

“I always knew there was some sort of strange unspoken bond between you and her,” Brienne said quietly. “When I carried her, I could feel it. She responded to you, almost like she could hear you. But…love? Truly?”

Bran smiled. “Yes, I can’t quite explain it either, but it was there,” he sat back again. “Do you remember that day when we sat here, all those years ago, while you were pregnant with her…and I placed my hand on your stomach and I had a reaction?”

Brienne nodded. “Yes…you told me you would tell me someday what that was.”

“I did, yes. Well, in reality I had a vision of the future,” he gave her a small gentle smile. “I saw her as my wife.”

“Your wife?” Brienne said in a whisper.

_For gods’ sake, Brienne, stop repeating everything he says._

“Yes…and not just that. In the vision not only was she my wife, but she was holding a baby. _Our_ baby.”

“But…how? Is that even possible given…” Brienne’s voice trailed off, not wanting to hit him in the face with the sad reality of the situation.

“I know, I have no idea how it’s possible either,” Bran replied, shaking his head and letting out a sharp laugh. “But I know what I saw, and if I saw it, it means it’s a possible outcome.”

“And she loves you as well?” Brienne was still trying to wrap her head around all of this.

Bran reached out again and put his hand on her arm. “I know what you’re thinking, that somehow I made her love me, or I’m manipulating all of this. Brienne, I swear to you on the lives of everyone that we both love, that I have not interfered with Joanna’s decisions, free will, or her choices. I have merely sat back and waited to see how this all could possibly play out.”

Brienne smiled and patted his hand.

“And you have my word that I will continue to be a passive participant in this situation and let her decide what it is she wants,” Bran continued. “But I do know that I love her with my whole heart, and she loves me as well. She has also mentioned feeling the bond we’ve shared.”

“So it was true then,” Brienne said. She saw tears began to gather in Bran’s eyes.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Please don’t be upset with her.”

“Oh Bran, I’m not upset with either of you. Someone once told me we don’t get to choose who we love, and I truly believe that. If you both are happy as you say, then I am happy as well.”

A sad expression suddenly fell over her face.

“What is it?” Bran asked.

Tears were now in Brienne’s eyes as well. “My babies are all growing up,” she said. “Brynna is in love with Ser Deston, and he loves her as well. Galladon is _extremely_ fond of your niece,” they shared a laugh at that. “And now Joanna and you. It’s quite a lot for a mother to take in.” She took a shaky breath as a tear escaped down her cheek. Bran squeezed her hands.

“You have my word that I will treat her well, no matter what happens.”

“I know you will,” Brienne assured him. “This is all just…wow.”

Bran chuckled. “I know, I’m sorry to hit you with this so suddenly, but if I’m going to do right by your daughter, I needed you to know what was going on. We both decided to keep it quiet until now just because we wanted to make sure it was real and quite honestly…we were afraid of what people might say.”

Brienne knew all to well what it was like to be the subject of ridicule and strange looks and whispers. A few more tears fell but she smiled.

“Bran, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my life, it’s that if you want something…strive for it no matter what anyone says, or no matter how anyone tries to cast you down or get in the way of your dreams.”

A few tears fell down Bran’s face as well. “Thank you.”

Brienne let out a large sigh. Bran’s brows came together.

“What?”

“Now I just have to figure out how to break the news to Jaime.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joanna paced outside of Bran’s room, waiting for him to be brought back to his chambers. He had been with Brienne all afternoon in the godswood and then had taken his supper in the small council chambers, supposedly in conference with someone. Joanna felt she hadn’t really spent any quality time with him in days and it was making her uneasy.

Plus, there was the issue of this mystery woman who had shown up a few days ago. Bran hadn’t introduced them and he seemed to keep this woman secreted away with him and sometimes his sisters as well. Joanna grew more anxious by the day not knowing what was going on right under her own nose. None of the other kingsguard seemed to know who she was either. All Ser Elrin had been able to tell her was that this woman arrived late in the night and Bran had food brought in for her and his sisters immediately after.

So now she found herself waiting outside his room for…what exactly? Answers? A proper introduction? The chance to see him alone for the first time in days?

When the better part of another hour had passed, she decided to take matters into her own hands and seek him out rather than sit here and wait.

_Why shouldn’t I go see him? I am his love and I am a member of his kingsguard…nothing would seem amiss._

She began making her way to the small council chambers, trying to figure out what she would say when she got there. She couldn’t exactly reveal their love to a stranger, a stranger to her anyway. She realized it was a good thing she was still in her armor so as not to draw suspicion.

But if Joanna Lannister of Tarth was anything at all in life, it was determined.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Breathe…listen to my voice and hold onto my hand,” Meera said to a white-eyed Bran. They were seated at the council chamber table…Bran at the head and Meera next to him, clutching one of his hands across the corner. She stared at his blank milky eyes. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Bran said quietly.

“Can you feel my hand?” Meera squeezed it for emphasis.

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, I want you to go back somewhere into the past, someplace of your choosing. But I want you to stay grounded here with me…focus on my hand and on my voice. When you get to where you’re going, walk around for one minute and then come back here. Ready?”

“Yes,” Bran said one more time. He then went silent and still, and Meera knew he was somewhere in time. She sat patiently, gripping his hand to keep him tethered to this world, to the here and now. She counted down the seconds in her head, waiting for Bran to bring himself back.

It seemed like an eternity but eventually he did return. The color in his eyes came back and his breathing slowed to normal. Finally, he looked at Meera as if he had just remembered she was there.

“Did it work?” She asked. “Were you able to travel?”

Bran nodded. “I did yes. I picked somewhere simple…I went back to Rhaegar and Aunt Lyanna’s wedding. It was a quiet moment, something that wouldn’t be too jarring.”

“Good…that’s good,” Meera said. “And you were able to control it, which is wonderful.”

“Yes,” Bran smiled. “I could feel you with me, and I think at one point I actually saw you with me, and that helped me stay conscious in the moment, and to come back easily…if that makes sense.”

Meera nodded. “It does make sense, and it was what I had hoped to accomplish. This is a good beginning.” She reached over and took his hand in both of hers.

At that moment the door quietly opened and in walked Joanna. Meera and Bran’s heads both snapped up to look at her, Meera looking confused while Bran broke out into a grin. Joanna’s eyes went right to their joined hands. She walked forward slowly, her demeanor stiff and guarded.

“Pardon the intrusion, Your Grace,” she said, her voice strained. “I was…just coming to…” she didn’t quite know what she was doing there.

Bran, sensing her discomfort, smiled warmly at her, and reached out his hand towards her.

“Come, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Joanna slowed her steps and looked back and forth between them, giving Bran a look that suggested he was crazy for being affectionate in front of someone else. When she reached his side, she shyly reached out and took his hand, not quite sure where this was heading. Bran took her hand in both of his.

“Meera Reed, I would like you to meet…my reason.”

“Your reason?” It took her a few seconds, and then she understood. Her eyebrows slowly went up. “Really?”

Bran looked up into Joanna’s eyes. “Yes. Joanna Lannister…meet Meera Reed. She is an old friend and House Reed has been an ally of House Stark for thousands of years. Meera, this is Joanna, daughter of Brienne of Tarth and Jaime Lannister.”

Joanna was too filled with emotion at the moment to notice the shocked look Meera threw in Bran’s direction. Quickly composing herself, she turned in her seat to face Joanna.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” she said tightly.

Joanna nodded. “Yours as well, Lady Reed.”

Meera eyed Joanna up and down. “A member of the kingsguard, very impressive.”

“And a knight,” Joanna said, her voice holding the tiniest bit of threat.

They sat there in an awkward silence until Bran spoke up again.

“Meera was with me when I journeyed north of the Wall when I was a child. She and her brother, Jojen, were there when we found the Three-Eyed Raven.” He and Meera shared a sad look at the remembrance of her brave sibling.

“She is helping me learn to control my powers,” Bran continued. “As we’ve spoken about many times.” He kept hold on her hand in an attempt to calm her. He could feel her tension, and the very last thing he needed was these two women at odds with each other.

Joanna finally snapped out of it. She smiled warmly at Meera. “That’s wonderful. My thanks for coming to assist His Grace.” She then grew thoughtful and drew her brows together. “How is it you knew to come all this way?”

“I’d been having dreams and visions about him,” Meera said evenly, not about to be intimidated by this young woman who was obviously not pleased she was here. “My brother was a greenseer, and the blood of the Children of the Forest and the Old Gods runs deeply through House Reed.”

Joanna backed down slightly, knowing she was outmatched for the moment. “Of course,” her voice softened. “Your expertise and wisdom will surely be extremely helpful.” She sighed but smiled. “I’ll leave you both, I simply came to say goodnight to His Grace.”

Joanna smiled at Bran as he kissed her hand.

“We’ll spend some time together soon, I promise,” he said, holding onto her hand a bit longer and rubbing her knuckles with his thumb.

Joanna simply nodded and squeezed his hand in return. Glancing at Meera she straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. “I’ll see myself out.” She walked to the door and upon reaching it, decided to throw one last jab.

“I love you,” she told Bran for the first time in front of another person. Bran’s eyes went wide for a moment and then he broke out into a huge grin.

“And I love you. Good night, my darling.”

Joanna blushed and pulled the door closed behind her, her heart bursting. It felt so good to finally be able to show her love for Bran publicly, even if it was just in front of one person. She stood for a few moments outside the door, smiling like a lovestruck fool and holding her hand to her chest.

Then she heard Meera speak.

“A Lannister…how horrifically ironic,” Meera observed. “And not only a Lannister but _his_ daughter.”

“I know it all seems very strange,” Joanna heard Bran reply. “But I love her with everything that I am, and she loves _me_ as I am, and asks nothing more of me.”

Joanna smiled at that, her heart warming in her chest again. However what Meera said just added to her already long list of questions she had previously filed away.

“Does she know?” Meera said just above a whisper. That definitely caught Joanna’s attention.

It was several seconds before Bran replied. “No,” he said quietly. “And I’d rather she didn’t, it would devastate her.”

Joanna’s heart leapt into her throat and she began trembling.

_What is going on? Why is everyone keeping secrets? Why is everyone keeping secrets from ME?_

She could feel confusion and anger beginning to boil within her and she knew she had to take herself elsewhere before she barged back into the room demanding answers. Instead, she decided maybe someone else could help her, and she stormed off in search of her parents.


	17. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grab your popcorn...

Brienne pulled Jaime in through the doorway to her office and pushed the door shut behind them, not stopping to realize that it didn’t close all the way. She walked over to the table and sat down, gesturing for him to sit as well.

“This seems serious,” Jaime said, settling himself in a chair.

“It is,” Brienne sighed. She stared at her hands for a few moments until Jaime reached for her to break her from her reverie. He took one of her hands in his and squeezed it.

“What is it, love?”

Brienne took a deep breath and slid her chair closer to him until their knees touched. Taking his hand in both of hers, she drew absentminded patterns on his palm.

“It seems Joanna has been asking questions regarding Bran’s crippling.”

Jaime’s face went slack, his eyes filled with fear. “What does she know?”

“From what Tyrion has told me, Bran won’t tell her the details of what happened.”

Jaime breathed a small sigh of relief and looked into Brienne’s eyes. “And what exactly has my brother told her?”

“He said he only gave her the details that are common knowledge, but again, wouldn’t go into exact specifics, nor did he tell her about you and Cersei.”

Jaime looked down to where Brienne was gently stroking his hand. “You know I don’t think Tyrion ever knew the exact truth about how Bran fell," he said quietly. "I know he had his suspicions but it was never confirmed to him. I’m sure he pieced it all together, though.”

“There’s more,” Brienne said. Jaime looked up at her. His hand twitched in hers and she gripped it and continued caressing his palm. Brienne lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “It seems that Joanna and Bran…are…in love.”

Jaime’s eyes flew wide. _“What?!”_

“Shhh, love, it’s alright.”

“The hell it is! She’s in love with the King? Bran? _King Bran?_ And he loves her too?” Jaime was becoming agitated. “First Brynna, then Galladon, now this…” he began muttering excitedly.

Brienne gripped his hand with one of hers and brought the other one up to cup his cheek.

“Jaime, look at me, love…look at me,” Brienne stroked her thumb back and forth across his cheek. He settled a bit and looked into her eyes. “It’s not what you think, let me explain.”

“But he’s almost eight and ten years older than she is,” Jaime said anxiously.

“I know, love, but if you think about it, that’s nothing when it comes to marriage in this world. You’re two and ten years older than I am.”

“That’s not the point…we’re different,” Jaime muttered.

Brienne fixed him with an incredulous look. “How, exactly?”

Jaime sulked. “I don’t know, we just are. You’re fine with this?” his voice started to rise again.

“I spoke to Bran alone, and he confessed it to me,” Brienne said quietly, attempting to soothe him again. “He…had a vision when I was pregnant with her…he saw her as his wife.”

“His…his _wife?_ So, he’s making this happen? Against her will? Heh, not when I’m through with him.”

“Jaime! You will do no such thing. They have shared some kind of…soul bond ever since she was in the womb. I can’t explain it, but I felt it too. She would calm whenever he was near, like she could hear him.”

Jaime stared at Brienne, attempting to comprehend. “Go on.”

“He swore to me he did not and has not and _will_ not interfere in Joanna’s decisions. The look on his face when he had his vision years ago was not one of calculation…it was one of pure shock and surprise…and joy. He wept.”

Jaime blinked at that. “So, he spoke to you and not me about all this? Usually the father of the bride is involved in the asking,” he muttered sarcastically.

“Love, he wasn’t asking for anything, he was simply telling me what he saw and how he feels.”

Jaime looked up at Brienne again and snorted. “What he _saw._ That’s a good one. How do we know he didn’t make all this up and just call it a _vision_ for convenience?” He stopped and scrunched up his face in thought. “He really wept?”

Brienne nodded. “I swear it, my love, he would not deceive me, and I believe his reactions were true.”

“And she loves him too? As he saw it?”

“So far, and without any prodding from him. Like I said, they share some kind of inexplicable bond.”

Jaime gently pulled his hand from Brienne’s grasp and rubbed his face. After a long silence he shrugged. “I don’t know, Bree.”

Jaime shook his head. “And what kind of life would she have? She’d be _queen_ for one, with all the pressure and responsibility that comes with that wretched title,” he spat, remembering how it had twisted and consumed Cersei. He then grew thoughtful and a bit saddened as well. “She’d be giving up her chance at a real family if she wanted one. After what I did to him, Bran can’t father children.”

_“What?”_

The voice was a shaky whisper, but still loud enough that Brienne and Jaime both heard it. Their heads snapped up to see Joanna standing in the doorway, a look of horror on her face. “What did you just say?”

Jaime’s eyes went wide with shock and his heart leapt into his throat. Joanna was staring back at him with a painfully similar expression, her green eyes wide with disbelief, her mouth open and her brows drawn together. For a few moments no one moved, until Joanna found her voice again.

“Papa…please tell me you didn’t just say what I think you did.” Her voice was still a hoarse whisper, quiet and even, but full of fear and mistrust. “Did you say after what _you_ did to him? Are…are _you_ the reason he was maimed?”

Jaime couldn’t move. His opened and closed his mouth a few times, and silent tears welled in his eyes. Brienne looked back and forth between her husband and their daughter, waiting to intervene. Time seemed to stop.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jaime finally spoke.

“I…I’m sorry, Bean,” he whispered, tears slowly rolling down his face. “But it’s true. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t.”

Joanna slowly walked forward, shaking her head in denial. “No. No…that’s…not possible. You could never have done such a thing.” Tears were falling from her eyes as well.

Jaime bit back a sob. “I wish that were true, Bean, I really do. It was a lifetime ago. I’m not that person anymore.”

“And what exactly was it that you _were?”_ Joanna’s voice was rising.

Brienne took a step towards her, holding out her hand. “Joanna, sweetling, sit down and…”

“No! No…I want to hear it from him,” Joanna turned her confused eyes to her father. “Papa, what in the Seven Hells possessed you to cripple a _child?”_

Jaime flinched as if she had struck him. He looked quickly at Brienne, tears coming fast and hard now. Brienne wanted to take him in her arms and tell him everything would be alright, but she knew she couldn’t promise that now.

“It was very complicated,” he began.

“Well I would hope so!” Joanna shouted.

“I…I did…I was…trying to protect my family,” Jaime said quietly, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to not have to relive his past.

“To protect your family? What does that even mean?” Joanna was becoming more and more agitated, beginning to pace back and forth.

“Bran…_saw_ something,” Jaime swallowed hard, trying to hold back more tears. “He…saw something that could have put some of us in serious danger…a matter of life and death,” he put his face in his hand again and let out a sob. “Oh, gods, please don’t make me…”

“What did he see, Papa?” Joanna was back to whispering now. “What did he see that made you almost _kill_ him.”

Jaime let out another cry at her words and looked up at Joanna, his eyes red and his face tear-streaked. “He saw…he…saw…oh gods, Brienne…” he looked over at his wife who was now crying as well. She reached over and took his hand for support.

“Papa…_what_ did he see…” Joanna said through clenched teeth. She was at her breaking point with secrecy and just wanted answers once and for all.

“He saw…me…me with…my…sister.”

Joanna was confused again. “Aunt Cersei? So? Why should that be troublesome?”

Jaime looked up at Brienne again, knowing this would hurt her too. “Please…no…” he whispered to her.

Brienne nodded and stroked his cheek. “It’s alright,” she whispered back to him. Jaime continued, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“He saw us…doing something…unnatural…something we shouldn’t have been doing…something siblings aren’t supposed to do.”

It took a few moments, but Joanna’s eyes grew wider as she slowly understood what he meant. Her hand flew to her mouth and she gasped.

“Oh gods…” her voice was shaking now, as were her hands. She began crying harder now as well.

“Bean, I know, it was wrong, but everything was so different and desperate back then,” words started spilling out of Jaime’s mouth now. “I…I can explain it…”

“Bran saw you…you…_fucking_ your own _sister,”_ it sickened her to even utter the words. “So you tried to _kill_ him?! A ten-year-old _child?!”_

Jaime visibly winced at her words. He began stumbling over his own. “Please, Bean, you don’t understand…if anyone had known, we would have all been executed…Cersei…me…the children…”

“Oh, gods…gods, no…no, no, no…” Joanna turned her back on her parents, suddenly feeling like she would be violently sick at any moment.

“I know, it’s unforgivable, I swear to you, I’m not that person now,” Jaime said, scrambling to make it right.

“So…not only did you fuck your own sister, the _Queen,_ but you had _children_ with her? Not just one but _three?”_

Jaime was staring off into space now, his eyes empty. “Yes,” he whispered.

Joanna continued, the pieces all falling into place for her. “So, Joffrey…Myrcella and Tommen…were…my brothers and sister? And more importantly, Joffrey wasn’t the lawful king, but a bastard born of _incest._ Yet you passed him off as the rightful heir?!” Joanna was shouting again.

“Yes,” Jaime whispered again, fresh tears threatening him.

“Was that the reason Uncle Robert’s brothers went to war after he was killed? Because they knew Joffrey was illegitimate? Is that what started the War of the Five Kings? Were _you_ and Aunt Cersei the _real_ cause of the war?!”

This time Jaime didn’t answer, but his silence spoke volumes.

Joanna suddenly remembered something else. “And when you didn’t succeed in killing Bran, was it you who sent a cutthroat after him and then tried to frame Uncle Tyrion for it?”

Jaime looked up at Joanna, his face horrified. “Absolutely not!”

Joanna shook her head and laughed. “And here I thought your worst crime was kingslaying. Was that all a lie too? Mumma always told us you did it to save the city…was that all a cover-up as well…_Kingslayer?”_

“Joanna!” Brienne screamed. Jaime recoiled as if Joanna had stabbed him through his heart with his own sword. Joanna then turned her anger on her mother.

“Well mother, was it? I never would have taken _you,_ the _oh-so-noble_ Brienne, for a _liar._ How long did you know? How could you love someone who lay with his own sister and tried to kill a child! Were you so desperate? Did you know all this when you married this _monster?!”_ Joanna screamed.

Brienne didn’t even feel her hand fly until she heard the _crack_ when it hit Joanna across the face. Jaime jumped to his feet, anger taking over him for the first time since this conversation started. He pointed a finger at his daughter.

“Say what you will about me, but you will _not_ disrespect your mother. She’s the reason I am who I am today. She pulled me out of that horrid life and made me see my worth and gave me back my honor!”

Joanna held a hand to her stinging cheek. She regretted everything that was coming out of her mouth, but she was exhausted and angry and felt utterly betrayed. She also felt she was somehow avenging Bran.

_“Honor??_ Ha! You wouldn’t know honor if it hit you over the head! You sired bastards on your own _sister!_ And not just one but _three!_ Do you have any idea how absolutely revolting that is? You tried to kill a _child_ for having the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time! You slew your own king, cuckolded Uncle Robert, started a war to keep everything hidden. What other crimes have you committed, Papa? Maybe they were right…all of them…when they called you a man without honor!”

“Joanna, that’s _enough!”_ Brienne warned.

Hot tears were streaming down Joanna’s face harder now, yet her face fell still, and her voice quieted to just above a whisper again. “My gods…imagine how Bran’s parents felt…imagine how you would feel if it were one of us. Imagine if someone threw Arthur from a tower window…it’s the same thing…how would you feel?”

Jaime was crying again. “Bean, it was an instinctive reaction…I didn’t think…it was a protective move.” He lowered his voice to the same level as his daughter’s. “I swear I’m not that man anymore, your mother saved…”

“I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE!” Joanna shrieked, making both Jaime and Brienne flinch and recoil. “All my life I’ve had you on a pedestal…the great golden lion Ser Jaime Lannister…I looked up to you and Mumma. But now…now…you both disgust me.”

Jaime reached for her. “Bean, please…”

“Don’t touch me!”

And Joanna Lannister turned and fled the room, leaving her parents in stunned silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I know this was tough to read. It was tough to write, believe me. But have no fear...everything will be alright. I promise.


	18. We All Make Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uncle Tyrion to the rescue...

The door to Tyrion’s office flew open and Joanna stormed in, slamming the door behind her. Tyrion looked up from his desk with a puzzled look. Taking in his niece’s appearance, he knew to tread lightly.

“Niece…are you alright?”

Joanna pointed a finger at him. “You _liar!_ You horrible, _awful liar!”_ She shrieked at him. Her voice cracked and she started to cry again.

Tyrion’s heart leapt into his throat. “Sweetling, what’s wrong? What have I done?”

“How many of you are in on it? Does everyone know?” She began pacing again like she had in Brienne’s office.

“Sweet niece, perhaps if I knew what you were referring to?”

Joanna stopped pacing and stared wild-eyed at him. She let out a sarcastic laugh and spread her hands wide.

“The fact that Papa isn’t who I thought he was…that he was bedding your _sister_ for gods know how long, that he almost killed our King when he was only a child, that he and Aunt Cersei basically started a war and had three bastards,” she put a hand to her stomach. “Oh gods, I’m going to be sick again.” She had vomited in a corner of the gardens on her way to see her uncle.

“Oh boy,” Tyrion muttered under his breath. He got down from his chair and walked around his desk to face her. He held out his hand which Joanna recoiled from. “How did you find out?”

“I overheard Mumma and Papa talking about it. I had just left Br--…His _Grace_ in the small council chamber where I found him talking with that _Reed_ girl,” she spat jealously. Tyrion raised his eyebrows at that.

“She mentioned something about Lannisters and _did I know,”_ she continued, again using a sarcastic tone when referencing Meera. “Rather than go back in, I decided to seek out Mumma and Papa. They were in her office when I got there.”

Tyrion gestured to the cushioned window seat. “Sweetheart, come sit, I’ll explain.”

“No, I prefer to stand,” Joanna glared at him, her green eyes hollow and red-rimmed.

“Ah, alright then,” Tyrion gingerly walked to the window seat, reaching up to push open one of the glass panels to let in some air. He then took a seat on the bench. When Joanna just stood there staring at him, he took a deep breath.

“In order to fully grasp everything that happened, you need to understand something. You have been lucky to grow up around nothing but decent, kind, generous love.”

“I understand how love works, Uncle,” Joanna muttered.

“You understand _good_ love,” Tyrion said, his face darkening. “However, there is another kind…a toxic kind that twists and eats and hates, and that is what your father was a victim of from a young age.”

Joanna drew her brows together. “A love that hates? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Once I explain it to you, it will. First, I need to tell you the truth about your aunt,” Tyrion said. “Cersei was…not a nice person…to put it mildly. In fact, she was horrid. When our mother died birthing me, our father became morose and cold and very closed off, and he never showed any of us any affection ever again.”

Joanna finally walked forward and sank down onto the window seat, curling one leg under her and turning to face him. She looked exhausted.

Tyrion continued. “Your aunt and your father were inseparable as children. Cersei was…how do I put this…needy and demanding. She saw everyone and everything as possessions, things to bend to her will in order to get what she wanted. Cersei used their twin bond to keep and control Jaime. She convinced him that they were not whole beings without each other, and that they were meant to always be together. She used his transgressions against him, like most people did, saying to him that people didn’t understand him, only she did, that only they mattered. It got to the point where your father wasn’t his own person, but hers.”

Joanna said nothing, just continued to stare.

“Let me back up a bit. When she and Jaime were three and ten…” he paused, loathe to begin talking about it. “She seduced him, and he didn’t know any better, so he played along. They had also uh…_experimented_ a bit when they were younger. They were found out by our mother and were separated.”

Joanna closed her eyes in disgust and then turned towards the window, getting some air on her face.

“Jaime was knighted at fifteen, and was betrothed to Lysa Tully, His Grace’s aunt. When Cersei found out, she once again took him to her bed and convinced him to join the Kingsguard so he could always be near her and never marry another. Father was furious, because it meant Jaime gave up his inheritance and more importantly, having any heirs. By that point, he was trapped in Cersei’s web, her plaything, obedient to her and manipulated by her to do whatever she wanted, as long as she kept bedding him. When she eventually married Robert Baratheon, she was so angry that she had been sold off by Father that she kept sleeping with Jaime in secret, and that’s when the children started coming.”

Joanna made a face of pain and disgust and continued to stare out of the window.

“It was never about love with our sister,” Tyrion said. “It was always about power and manipulation. She never saw Jaime as more than a vessel to do things for her that she couldn’t do for herself because she had been born a woman,” he reached out and took Joanna’s hand at that point, whether she wanted it or not. She looked down but made no move to pull away.

“But if Aunt Cersei was so awful, why did Papa stay with her? Why help her? Why even start the whole deviant thing to begin with?” She cringed.

“Having been robbed of our mother, and father being the cold fish that he was, your father was so desperate for any form of love, that he mistook Cersei’s abuse for caring. I know what he did was wrong, and so does he, but he so craved acceptance and contact, that he kept going back to her. The great Lady Olenna Tyrell once said your aunt was a disease, and that Jaime helped spread it, and that one day it would come back to haunt him, and it did. Strange thing, manipulation and abuse…our sister would throw Jaime just enough crumbs to keep him obedient, to think that he was being loved.”

“How sad for him,” Joanna whispered, an unexpected pang of sympathy washing over her.

Tyrion held up a finger. “Ah hah! But now you’re beginning to see things from his perspective. He was always in a bad place. In addition to all that he was also the buffer between Cersei and _me_ when we were young.”

Joanna looked into his eyes then, tears softly falling again, but she remained silent.

“Cersei hated me from the moment I was born. She blamed me for killing our mother and was always looking for ways to hurt me. Jaime would always stop her, or at least try. He was also the only one who took the time to play with me and bring me toys,” Tyrion smiled then.

“When Joffrey was murdered, Cersei blamed me and wanted me dead. She even went so far as to set up a mockery of a trial, with Father’s support no less. He hated me just as much as she did. Jaime defended me yet again, and when I lost my trial by combat, he set me free from the Black Cells and risked his own life to do so. Of course, I didn’t help matters when I stopped along the way to murder our father, at which point Cersei tried to have me murdered again,” he laughed sadly at that.

Joanna’s eyes flew wide. “You…you killed your own father?”

Tyrion nodded at her. At that point, Joanna was so emotionally spent that she actually started to laugh. Tyrion’s eyebrows went up, not quite sure what to make of her reaction. Joanna kept laughing as tears once again formed in her eyes.

“Of course you did,” she said, wiping away a tear. “Because this story just gets more and more fucked up.”

“Times were very different then,” Tyrion said. “There was a war on, families were torn apart…although to be fair, ours wasn’t all that stable to begin with,” he chuckled at that. “What I’m trying to say is, not everything is black and white, people do things for crazy reasons, you never know the truth behind why people react the way they do. For myself, I was trying to save my own life, and father had been cruel to me and tortured me for most of it, as had Cersei. I simply snapped. As for Jaime, well, once he met your mother, his life began to change.”

Joanna nodded. “He tried to explain that...but I wouldn't let him,” she said quietly.

“Your mother was his captor and the sworn sword of our enemy at the time…the Starks. Yet he defended her honor against mercenaries and they took his hand for it. He also rescued her from a bear pit. It took circumstances _that_ traumatic for your father to start to break free from Cersei’s control, as your mother began to show him that he was a good person deep down. He also defended your mother from Cersei, by arming and armoring her and sending her away from King’s Landing to fulfill their oaths to Catelyn Stark. He would later defy Cersei’s orders by riding north to Winterfell to fight alongside your mother in the war against the dead. So you see, sweetling, there are no perfect little boxes that people fit into. Life shapes and changes who we are, sometimes not for the good.”

Joanna nodded again, still holding her uncle’s hand. “It just feels like everything has been a lie,” she whispered. “Like Papa is an entirely different person.”

“He was a different person,” Tyrion said. _“Was._ Past tense. The Jaime you have always known is the person Jaime really is. His love for your mother and you and your siblings is very real and runs very deep. Your father loves ferociously and completely...he always has. Your mother really did save him, that is true, and the father you have known him to be is his true self. We all make mistakes, sweetling, and in this case the Lannisters have made more than most, but they are just that…mistakes.”

“But he tried to kill Bran, when he was a _child.”_

“Again, that was because Cersei wanted it so, not because he did. The true cause of Bran’s maiming was never confirmed to me, but I had my suspicions, and Cersei now and again did mention wanting Bran dead, so I put the pieces together. Jaime panicked, knowing that he and Cersei and the children would be killed if their secret was revealed. I don’t know what else to say.”

Joanna sat quietly, finally calming down. Her rage had completely exhausted her, and all she wanted to do was fall down and sleep all of this away. It was too much information all at once. Tyrion held onto her hand in order to try to further soothe her, and when Joanna didn’t speak, he took that as a sign to continue.

“So, my sweet niece, now you see the two faces of love. Cersei used it to tear your father down, and your mother used it to build him up. Cersei was his owner, but your mother is his protector and his heart.”

Joanna closed her eyes as more tears fell. “Oh, Uncle,” she whispered. “It’s all so much, I feel like someone has ripped my heart out.” She heaved a large sigh and thought for a few moments. “I love Papa, I do. And I just hurled a bunch of insults at him that will take both of us time to get past. Mumma struck me as well, which I probably deserved, but to learn something so horrible…” She took a deep breath and looked into Tyrion’s eyes again. “And as you’ve already assumed long before today, I also love Bran, and my heart breaks for him too. I just don’t know how to process this right now.”

Tyrion’s own heart broke at both her finally confessing to him and seeing her so distraught.

“We’ll save that conversation for another day, sweetling,” he said to her, offering her a sympathetic smile.

Joanna slid off the bench and down to her knees, laying her head on Tyrion’s thigh and sobbing. He softly ran his fingers through her hair, the usual stray pieces of it now having come loose from the thick braid at the back of her head.

“Someday you’ll see, sweetling,” Tyrion murmured. “I promise…someday it will be alright.” He was suddenly struck with an idea. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? I have another room. You can get some sleep and not have to see anyone, and we can talk more in the morning.”

Joanna nodded and quietly cried against Tyrion’s leg while he gently stroked her hair, making her even more sleepy. When she finally spoke again, her voice was so small and pained, it made Tyrion want to weep as well.

“Oh, Uncle, I said such awful things to both of them.”

Tyrion leaned down to kiss her on the top of her head.

“Sweetling, if saying things in anger or distress were crimes punishable by death…there would be no one left in the world.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jaime and Brienne ate their supper late in their chambers that night. Jaime had barely spoken since Joanna had left Brienne’s office in a rage. He had hardly eaten either. He was simply pushing his food around his plate with his fork, staring at it with sad, hollow eyes. Brienne watched him for a few moments before speaking.

“Jaime, love, do try to eat something,” she said softly to him.

“I’m not hungry,” he said quietly. Not only had the revelations of a few hours ago driven a wedge between him and his eldest daughter, but it had reopened wounds he thought were long healed. Ghosts that he had never wanted to revisit were back, and they were preying on his mind like they had all those years ago.

_Kingslayer. Oathbreaker. Man Without Honor._

The words had sounded even worse coming from Joanna. _His_ Joanna.

Brienne sighed and sat back in her chair. She quietly stared at Jaime as he in turn continued to stare at his plate. He looked exhausted, and Brienne noticed one solitary tear fall from his lashes and roll down his cheek in the candlelight. Feeling her heart could take it no longer, Brienne slipped from her chair and moved to kneel between Jaime’s legs, reaching up to tenderly caress his cheek. Jaime’s eyes met hers at last and he gave her a tiny tired smile.

He leaned down to touch his forehead to hers and took in a shaky breath. Brienne just continued to caress him.

“Jaime, darling,” she said softly. “It’s going to be alright. She just needs some time to process this. It was a lot of information to hit her all at once.”

Jaime nodded slowly. “I know,” he whispered. “I just…” he started to cry again, his voice breaking. “I just didn’t want to relive my past again…not like that…not as the recipient of the wrath of one of our beloved children.” He sobbed against her shoulder.

Brienne pulled him tightly against her, stroking the back of his hair with one hand and his back with the other.

“Shhhh, I know, my love, I know.” She felt so helpless. "I still can't believe I struck her," she added, almost as a whisper to herself.

“I thought the gods had forgiven me,” Jaime choked out. “Turns out they were saving their true punishment for when I was at my happiest.” He put his arms around Brienne and continued to weep. “Maybe they have found me unworthy still.”

“Hey, Jaime, _NO,”_ Brienne lifted his head from her shoulder and cupped his face in her hands, thumbing the flow of tears from his cheeks. “We are _not_ going down this path again. You have always been worthy…of me, of the children, of your brother, of your friends…of _honor.”_

Jaime looked deep into his wife’s blue eyes…the eyes he so loved to get lost in. He brought his hand up to stroke her cheek as well.

“You never give up on me, do you?” he smiled weakly and sniffed, rubbing his nose on his sleeve. “My incredible wife. You’ve always defended me, always seen the good in me...loved me. You’ve given me seven beautiful children.”

“We gave each other the children,” Brienne giggled.

“True,” Jaime gave a snort. “Sometimes I miss you being pregnant,” he said, reaching out to put his hand on her stomach. “Your belly big and round with my children…it got my juices flowing.” He winked at her.

“Ugh! I don’t miss it!” Brienne exclaimed and then laughed. She then grew serious again. “And I will never give up on you. Not even with my dying breath, whenever that may be.”

Jaime’s eyes grew watery again. “Don’t ever say that…I couldn’t bear it if you were gone. And please…don’t leave me.” He sounded so broken. “You almost left me once…along with two of our beautiful babes…and it scared me worse than any battle I’ve ever been in. I never want to feel that again.”

“That wasn’t by choice, love, I would never leave you by choice.”

Brienne’s pregnancy with Alysanne and Arianne had been difficult. She had had to be on bed rest for a good portion of it, and their birth had ended up with Brienne weak and having lost quite a lot of blood. The twins had also been in danger and had to be closely monitored the first few days of their lives. Gilly had never left their side, and Sam had never left Brienne’s.

Jaime had been so distraught that he had never left her side either. He had barely eaten or slept, clinging to Sam’s every word and every movement he had made over Brienne. When Brienne finally rallied and the girls had begun to grow stronger, Jaime had never felt more relieved in his life. He also had grown even more protective of his wife, not wishing her to have any more children after that. They were careful for a while, however one night after a banquet for visiting royalty of Dorne, where everyone had had a bit too much to drink…little Arthur showed up nine months later.

Now that Brienne was fifty and her monthly bleeding had ceased, they could afford to be reckless again…something Jaime took full advantage of.

Brienne smiled at him and stroked his brow. “I’m not going anywhere, love. No one is leaving anyone. I will always be here, and I will always come for you if you are taken from me. I’d fight the Stranger himself.”

Jaime smiled again. “My vigilant dove.” He ran the tip of his index finger down her cheek.

Brienne kissed him softly.

“Take me to bed,” Jaime suddenly asked her. “Hold me and help me forget.”


	19. Damage Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone tries to put out the fires.

The incessant pounding on his door woke Tyrion from sleep. Cracking an eye open, he noted that it was just barely light outside and the sun wasn’t even up yet. He groaned and sat up, trying to get his bearings, hoping maybe it was a dream. When the knocking came again, he sighed and slid off the bed, walking to a nearby chair to retrieve his robe. Throwing it on over his nightshirt, he walked out into his living area, rubbing his eyes and yawning. The pounding sounded once more.

“Alright! Alright! Give me a minute, I’m an old man!” He groused.

Upon reaching the door, he opened it and glared at a very anxious-looking Brynna.

“Is she here?” She breathed.

“Good morning to you too, niece,” Tyrion muttered.

“My apologies, Uncle…good morning,” Brynna continued wringing her hands and looking over Tyrion’s head. “Is she here? Is she alright?”

“I assume you are referring to your sister,” Tyrion quipped. Taking in Brynna’s nervous appearance, his expression softened and he stood back to hold the door open. “She’s here. Come in.”

Brynna breezed past him and began looking around for Joanna. She ran to Tyrion’s extra bedroom while Tyrion stood in the middle of his living area, still not fully awake. After a few seconds, Brynna came running out of the bedroom in a panic.

“She’s not in there, did she leave?”

Tyrion looked around, somewhat nervous now himself. His eyes finally rested on his patio doors, whereupon he saw Joanna sitting in a chair outside, staring out over the city. Brynna’s eyes followed his hand as he pointed out where her sister sat. She looked back to him and they locked eyes with a sad expression on each of their faces.

Tyrion sighed. “Go on, I think she probably needs you. I’ll send down to the kitchens for some tea and breakfast for all of us.”

Brynna knelt down and hugged him to her. “Thank you, Uncle,” she whispered. “Mostly for giving her a place to hide. She sent me a cryptic note via a servant which I received this morning, asking me to come here.”

Tyrion leaned back to kiss her on the forehead. “Sweetling, I need to warn you…what she’s going to tell you is going to be very difficult to hear. Try to be understanding and I’ll be along to fill in the missing pieces as soon as breakfast arrives.”

Brynna’s brow creased but she nodded. “Alright.” She stood up and made her way to the doors to the outside terrace. Pushing the door open, she stepped outside.

Joanna was sitting on a small bench, wrapped in a blanket, staring bleary-eyed out over King’s Landing. She had her knees pulled up to her chin with her arms wrapped around them. When she heard the door open, she slowly looked up, and Brynna could see that she had either been crying or hadn’t slept much. Upon seeing her sister, Joanna burst into tears.

“Oh, thank the gods you’re here,” she choked. Brynna immediately went to her and sat down beside her. She put her arms around Joanna and pulled her sister against her, practically dragging Joanna into her lap. Putting one arm around Joanna’s shoulders, she brought her other hand up to stroke Joanna’s hair, pushing her sister’s head down onto her shoulder. Joanna cried against Brynna’s warm skin.

“Shhh, it’s alright,” Brynna cooed softly, letting Joanna cry. “What happened? Your note wasn’t very forthcoming.”

Joanna finally calmed herself and took in a deep breath. Brynna kept a hold of her, hugging her tightly. Joanna brought the edge of her blanket up and draped it over Brynna as well, cocooning herself in her sister’s embrace.

“Remember the conversation we had about Bran? How I told you we’re in love?”

“Yes.”

“And how I asked him how he had come to be injured, and he wouldn’t tell me? But said a few cryptic things?”

“Yes.”

“He’s got someone here visiting him. Some old friend of his named Meera Reed…one of the Northern houses. Last night when I went to bid Bran goodnight, I heard her say that it was _horrifically ironic_ he loves a Lannister…and not just any Lannister but _his_ daughter.”

Brynna startled at that. “She has some grief against Papa?”

Joanna actually chuckled. “Oh, just wait,” she snarked.

Brynna took her hand away from Joanna’s head long enough to secure the blanket more tightly around them, warding off the morning chill. “Go on.”

“I finally got angry at all the secrecy and went to find Mumma and Papa to get some answers once and for all,” Joanna put her arms around Brynna and hugged her in return. “I found them in Mumma’s office, where I heard Papa confess that he’s the reason Bran is crippled.”

_“What?!”_ Brynna exclaimed, pulling back to look Joanna in the face. Joanna weakly looked up at her and nodded.

“He threw Bran from a tower window when Bran was only ten years old. It happened at Winterfell.” Her tears started falling again.

Brynna’s mouth fell open. Trying to figure out what to say, shook her head incredulously. “There must be some explanation…at least I would hope so. Maybe it was an accident?”

Joanna slowly shook her head. “No. He meant to do it,” her voice cracked.

“Papa told you that?” Brynna was still in shock.

“Yes,” Joanna took another deep breath. “He said he did it because Bran saw Papa with Aunt Cersei…” she closed her eyes, still revolted by the thought. “Bran saw them...fucking.”

Brynna’s eyes flew wide and she stiffened. Her face melted into a look of horror and disbelief, yet she held her composure.

“He…they…oh, gods…”

Joanna nodded. “Yes…my thoughts exactly.”

“But…_why?!”_

“Uncle Tyrion explained that Aunt Cersei was basically a horrible person, who abused and manipulated Papa from childhood,” she made a face of disgust and shivered. “She…seduced him when they were young in order to get him to do her bidding and remain obedient to her.”

Brynna made a face much like Joanna’s.

“Ugh, how horrid!”

“I know,” Joanna sighed. “When Uncle Tyrion explained it, I actually ended up feeling sorry for him. What a horrible thing to have gone through for so long. Uncle says Papa was so desperate for any form of love that he did anything Aunt Cersei asked him as long as she showed him affection.”

“How sad indeed,” Brynna whispered.

“I said absolutely horrible things to both Papa and Mumma last night,” Joanna said, sighing and leaning even more into her sister.

“Well, I can imagine you were quite distraught,” Brynna answered, trying to make sense of everything in her head.

They sat quietly for a bit, and Joanna actually fell asleep on Brynna’s shoulder for approximately twenty minutes before Tyrion appeared with a tray of food and a steaming pot of tea. He set it down on a small table in front of the bench and sat down in a chair across from his nieces. He stared at them for a few moments…Joanna asleep on Brynna’s shoulder, Brynna with her arms around Joanna, trying to shield her from the world. He smiled sadly.

“My girls,” Tyrion said quietly. “I’m so sorry you had to find everything out this way. I’m sorry you had to find out at all, honestly.”

Brynna looked over at him. “Everyone has a past, Uncle. Granted, I never expected even a tiny amount of _this,”_ she shook her head and chuckled softly. “But I won’t persecute Papa for it. He’s obviously changed his life, and he loves Mumma so much, plus all of us.”

Tyrion sat back, pleasantly shocked. “Once again, you impress and surprise me, niece. Most people would immediately change their perception of someone after learning they did such horrible things.”

“Honestly, Uncle, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t shocked and somewhat sickened,” Brynna answered. “But the Papa I have always known is a good man, a loving man, and I think the last thing he needs right now is to be condemned for his past transgressions.” She grew quiet for a few moments. “Although, attempting to murder a child is rather difficult to overlook.”

“How much did Joanna tell you?”

“Only a couple of pieces.”

Tyrion began to spoon their breakfast onto plates and poured a cup of tea for each of them. Joanna stirred, the smell of bacon, creamed oatmeal, and warm bread filling her nostrils. Extricating herself from Brynna’s arms, she reached for her food and tea.

“Thank you, Uncle, this smells heavenly.”

The Lannister sisters ate quietly as Tyrion once again relayed his knowledge and explanations about Cersei and Jaime’s troubled and complicated lives for Brynna’s benefit. By the time he was finished, everyone had a full belly and had asked their questions.

“Well now I’m even more convinced,” Brynna said, looking over at Joanna. “I just don’t have it in my heart to condemn Papa for the rest of his life for something that happened decades before we were even born.”

“But Bran…” Joanna started.

“I know, I really do, and I understand he’s your love,” Brynna took Joanna’s hand in hers. “I would be heartbroken if I found out someone had tried to harm Ser Deston…especially if it was one of our own family. But Jo, Papa loves us and Mumma so much. He’d die of a broken heart without all of us, you know he would.”

Tyrion nodded in agreement. “It’s true, he would. In all my life, I have never seen him so absolutely besotted with anyone as he is with your mother and the seven of you…and that includes your aunt and their former children. While he thought he loved Cersei, he’s never looked at her the way he stares at your mother, and he was never allowed to be a proper father to Joffrey, Myrcella, or Tommen. Your mother and all of you are the answer to a longing he’s carried with him most of his life.”

Brynna looked back and forth between Tyrion and Joanna. “I think the best idea would be to keep this between ourselves…and Bran, of course. He obviously kept it secret for a good reason, which we now know. Galladon, Sel, and the others don’t need to know about this. Arthur would be absolutely devastated. They all love Papa as much as we do, and if Papa managed to put all this behind him until now, I think we owe it to him to protect him.”

Tyrion smiled. “It’s very touching to see your compassion and love for your father. You have a rare heart, Brynna.”

After a few moments, Joanna nodded. “Alright, Brynn, we’ll play it your way,” she said defeatedly. “We’ll keep it amongst ourselves. Probably the best idea…we have to protect our brothers and sisters as much as we have to protect Papa.”

Brynna turned her eyes to Tyrion.

“And you and I have a lot of damage to repair, Uncle.”

Tyrion smiled at her. “I always did love a challenge. I’ll take on your father.”

“And I’ll handle Mumma,” Brynna said. She turned to Joanna. “Bran is up to you.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tyrion sat across from his brother at the table in Brienne and Jaime’s chambers. The two stared at each other in silence until Tyrion broke the tension.

“She’s going to forgive you, it will be alright. In some ways, she already has. She has sympathy for you and a better understanding of the circumstances.”

Jaime puffed air out through his nose. “Thank the gods for small victories, I suppose. Thank you.”

“I only did half the work,” Tyrion quipped. “Your second daughter put in equal time.”

Jaime furrowed his brow. “Brynna?” He put his face in his hand. “Oh no, she knows too?”

“Oh, Jaime, you know how close she and Jo are. Of course she knows. However, you will be pleased to know that she came up with the idea to protect you and not let the others hear of it.”

Jaime looked up, eyes wide. “She did?”

Tyrion nodded. “She believes in you…knows you as the good man you’ve always been to all of them. She says there is no reason to taint that.”

Tears formed in Jaime’s eyes. “My sweet girl,” he whispered.

“She got Joanna to agree as well,” Tyrion continued. “I filled Joanna in on our torrid past, complete with the exploits of our sweet sister and Father. She had a much more balanced view by the time we were finished. By then she was so exhausted I let her stay in my rooms last night.”

“You’re good to them,” Jaime said. “All of them. They love you.”

“And I love them, and I’d rather die than see any one of them come to any harm.”

“As would I. Especially when it’s me that’s harmed one of them.”

Tyrion leaned forward in his chair. “Jaime, please, trust me. Everything will right itself. She has no malice towards you. She said more than once that she said horrible things to both you and Brienne. She loves you, have no fear. She just needs time to digest all of this.”

He sat back again and stared at his brother again for a few moments. “Do you need the day off?”

Jaime let out a relieved sigh. “Gods, yes, please.”

Tyrion nodded. “Alright. Take the day and do what you need to do. I’ll fill you in on any important matters later. Is there anything you need to report to the council?”

The Master of Law shook his head. “Not that I can think of at this moment, but to be honest I’m not entirely focused on business right now.”

“Of course, I understand.” Tyrion hopped down off of his chair. “I better get down there though.” He walked over to Jaime and laid his hand on Jaime’s knee. “Trust me. Just be patient. I know right now things are a mess, but we’re working on it.”

Jaime gave his brother a small smile. “Thank you. I’m glad you’re here.”

Tyrion smiled back. “Without you, I wouldn’t be, and that is something I’ll never forget.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deston lay sprawled out on a bench in the gardens, his head in Brynna’s lap while she softly ran her fingers through his thick hair. She quietly hummed a tune, mingling with the soft breeze and the chirping of the birds. Deston felt as if he were in heaven.

He held her free hand in his against his chest, bringing it up to his lips sporadically to kiss her knuckles. Brynna smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. Deston closed his eyes and sighed.

“I could lay in your lap and listen to you sing forever.”

Brynna giggled as she twirled one of the long waves of his hair around her finger.

“That would be lovely, darling, but I need to go find Mumma in a bit,” she then moved to tap him on the tip of his nose. “And _you_ have duty soon.”

Deston pouted up at her, causing Brynna to laugh again.

“Don’t give me those sad eyes, you know I can’t resist them,” she smiled softly at him and ran her fingers through his hair again.

Deston rolled over onto his side and wrapped his arms around her waist, looking up at her. Tilting her head to one side, Brynna studied his face.

“You know, I have a confession to make,” she said. “Remember the night we met?”

Deston smiled lazily. “Of course, I’ll never forget it.”

“Remember when you asked me if I wanted a drink because you caught me mumbling about honeyed mead?”

Deston scrunched up his brow for a moment. “Yes, I believe so.”

“I wasn’t really looking for a drink,” Brynna blushed. “I was trying to find the right color to describe your eyes.”

Deston slowly sat up and brought his face inches from hers. “Why Brynna Lannister, you little sneak.”

She giggled and rubbed her nose against his. Looking into those eyes she so loved, she became lost. She was also suddenly quite aware of how close he was. Brynna’s traitorous lips parted on their own and before she knew what was happening, she leaned forward the last few inches parting them and placed a soft kiss to Deston’s mouth.

She could feel his breath hitch and he blinked a few times, obviously taken by surprise. Brynna blushed and bit her bottom lip shyly as she pulled back slightly to look at him. Deston pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes.

“Sneaky _and_ bold,” he whispered with a smirk on his lips. “Whatever shall I do? I am helpless to your charms, my lady.”

“You can do whatever you like,” Brynna whispered back. Deston’s eyes popped open at that, causing Brynna to laugh. “You should see your face.”

“I’d much rather look at yours,” Deston replied, leaning in to kiss her again. Brynna brought her hands up to cradle his face, rubbing her thumbs along his stubbled jawline.

“How is it no one ever captured your heart before now?” She asked, once again staring at his liquid dark golden eyes.

“I hadn’t met you yet,” he grinned.

The late morning breeze rustled the tree branches above where they sat, and just as Deston went in for another kiss, the White Tower bells sounded, signaling the changing of the guard. Deston sighed.

“That’s my cue,” he said sadly. “Time to go.” He gave Brynna one more quick kiss and then stood up off the bench, grabbing her hands and pulling her to her feet as well. She slipped her arm through his as she began her walk to drop him off at his quarters so he could get ready for his shift.

“I hate it when we have to part,” Deston said as they arrived at his door. Brynna took his hands in hers.

“I know, darling, but we’ll see each other later,” she smiled, trying to lighten his heart. Deston nodded and looked both ways up and down the hallway to ensure they were alone. Leaning down he drew Brynna in for one more kiss.

“Until then, my sweet,” he kissed each one of her hands in turn. They smiled at each other and then parted.

Brynna found her mother at the tourney field around midday.

Alysanne, now that her broken arm had completely healed, had begged and cajoled Brienne into letting her attempt jousting again. With Jaime spending some time with Tyrion, Brienne decided to give in to her daughter’s whims once more. Ser Cayle was once again present, watching over Alysanne’s every move and her safety.

Sitting in the grandstand where she had when Deston had won the grand tourney, Brienne stared blankly out over the arena. Her eyes were on Alysanne and Cayle, but her mind was elsewhere. Arianne stood down at the front against the wall, watching her twin and cheering her on. Brienne didn’t even hear Brynna approach.

“Mumma?”

Brienne turned her head slowly to look at Brynna, smiling softly when it finally registered in her mind that she was there.

“Oh, hello, darling, what brings you here?”

Arianne’s head snapped around at the new voice. She smiled and waved at her older sister.

“Hello, Brynna!”

“Hello, sweetling,” she smiled and waved back. Arianne went back to watching Alysanne.

Brynna leaned down to kiss Brienne on the cheek and then sat down on the bench next to her.

“This is a lovely surprise,” Brienne said. Brynna reached out and laced her hand through her mother’s.

“I need to speak with you,” she said quietly, to make sure Arianne wouldn’t overhear them.

Brienne sighed. “Yes, I figured you might. How much do you know?”

“All of it. Joanna gave me the meat of the situation and then Uncle Tyrion filled in the history.”

“Oh good, she’s not alone at least,” Brienne said sadly.

“She spent the night at Uncle Tyrion’s rooms.”

Brienne looked back out towards where Alysanne was kicking Lanno up into a run for another pass at the jousting dummy. She nodded.

Brynna continued. “Mumma, I want you to know that the three of us decided that no one else needs to know about all this…about Papa’s past. We’ve always known him as a kind and loving man and father, and we’d like to keep it that way, especially for the younger ones.”

Brienne turned back to her daughter and creased her brow for a moment. She then realized what Brynna was saying and tears of gratitude formed in her eyes. She threw her arms around Brynna and hugged her tightly.

“Oh, darling, thank you,” she whispered, turning quickly to make sure Arianne’s attention was still on what was going on in the arena. “Your father is so distraught over this. He fought so long and hard for many years to shed his ugly reputation and his past crimes.”

“I’m sure he is, Mumma. Uncle Tyrion said he would speak to him.”

“They’re together now, yes.”

“Joanna is to speak to Bran, and you are my responsibility,” Brynna grinned and gave a small laugh. That made Brienne chuckle too.

“Well, I’m glad you drew my lot then. Do you have somewhere you need to be?”

“No, I’m all yours for the afternoon,” Brynna said, closing both of her hands around Brienne’s left one.

“Oh, darling, I’m so glad.”

Leaning over to kiss Brynna on the forehead, Brienne then turned back to watch Alysanne, her heart much lighter than it had been moments ago. The three of them cheered as Alysanne made another good pass at the target.

Alysanne looked over and noticed Brynna was there too now. She stood up in the stirrups and waved frantically.

“Brynna!”

“You look wonderful, sweetling!” Brynna shouted back. “How has she been doing?”

“She’s been fine,” Brienne answered. “Much more focused since the arm break.”

“That’s good,” Brynna said, looking out at her sister, who was beaming brightly being in the setting she loved so much. “She was born to be a horsemaster. You'd think she was part Dothraki.”

“So it would seem," Brienne laughed one of her loud cackles.

Arianne cheered and jumped up and down again as Alysanne made another flawless run. For the rest of the afternoon, the Lannister women enjoyed the peace of each other’s company. Arianne had come up to sit with her mother and older sister for a bit, but was soon back down at the railing cheering on her twin. Brynna smiled to herself as the afternoon breezes wafted over them.

_Two down._

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With everyone else occupied elsewhere, Joanna took the opportunity to sneak back to her and Brynna’s chambers to rest, wash, and put on a change of clothing. She had sent word to Brienne via servant that she was not up to performing her duty for the next couple of days. The servant had returned later on with a message from Brienne saying she understood. Joanna had felt guilty that she couldn’t tell her mother herself, but she just couldn’t face anyone right now.

Wearing a loose tunic over breeches with no belt, Joanna padded across her living space floor in her bare feet to the hearth, where she poured herself another cup of the tea she had brought back from Tyrion’s rooms earlier. With Brynna off in search of Brienne, Joanna took the opportunity to hide and recollect her wits.

She had barely taken a sip of her tea when there was a knock on the door. She froze in the middle of the floor with the steaming cup at her lips.

_Please go away._

The knock came again followed by “Joanna, please open the door, it’s only me.”

_Bran?! Oh, gods, what is he doing here?_

She ran to put the cup down on the table and looked around for her robe to throw on over her tunic and breeches.

“Just a second!”

Running to her bedroom, she hurriedly scanned it and upon finding her robe, quickly struggled into it. Attempting to calm her pounding heart, she forced herself to calmly walk to the door. Upon opening it, she indeed discovered Bran, being accompanied by Ser Ashtin. Joanna bowed before them.

“Your Grace, to what do I owe the honor?” She put on the show for Ashtin’s benefit.

“May I come in?”

“Oh! Yes, of course, my apologies,” Joanna stepped back and held the door open as Ashtin wheeled Bran inside. When they had reached the center of the room, Bran looked up.

“You can wait outside, please, I’ll call for you when I’m ready.”

Ashtin bowed. “As you wish, Your Grace.” Looking up again, he nodded to his fellow kingsguard. “Joanna.”

“Ashtin,” she replied with a nod of her own. Ashtin turned and left. Joanna and Bran looked at each other.

“Won’t this appear inappropriate?” Joanna asked timidly.

Bran gave her a smirk. “I’m the King, I can do whatever I want.” They shared a giggle at that. Bran reached out for her hand. “Take me to your bedroom. I want to lie down with you.”

Joanna’s eyes widened in delighted surprise. “Oh…alright.” She blushed as she moved behind his chair to move him into her bedchamber. Placing his chair right beside the bed, between the two of them they got Bran out of it and comfortably propped up against the pillows. He patted the space beside him.

“Come on, lie down.”

Joanna climbed up on the bed and fitted herself against Bran’s side. Pulling the blankets up over them, she laid her head on his shoulder as he put his arms around her and gave her a soft kiss on the top of her head.

“Now then,” Bran whispered. “Are you alright? Your mother told me you wanted to be excused from duty for the next few days. She told me what happened.”

Joanna looked up and him and being unable to help herself, suddenly burst into tears. She reached up to cup his face with her hand.

“Oh, my darling, I am so sorry for what he did to you. For the first time in my life I’m ashamed to be a Lannister.”

Bran pulled her tighter against him, letting her cry against his chest. “Shhh, it’s alright, don’t ever be ashamed of who you are or who your family is.”

“But he tried to kill you,” she sobbed. Bran continued to hold her, stroking her back and laying his cheek against her hair.

“Well, he didn’t succeed, now did he?” He said with a lightness to his voice. “I’m still here.”

“I know, but…”

“Sweetling, your father and I discussed this long ago. We made amends. I know why he did what he did, and in some strange way, if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t be who I am today, with the powers I have.”

Joanna looked up again, her face puffy and red. “You…forgave him?” She wiped her nose on her sleeve.

Bran nodded. “I did. When I saw him for the first time again after it happened, at Winterfell right before the Long Night, I realized that even though he may have broken me physically, that he was far more broken on the inside, and it made me pity him.”

“You mean what Aunt Cersei did to him.”

“That and what he had done to himself as well.”

Joanna laid down again, wrapping her arms around Bran in return. “I was so angry, my love. I wanted to kill him at that moment. I’m so ashamed.”

“There’s that word again,” Bran replied. “You’re human, sweetling, just like all of us. Anyone would have been furious to learn something of that magnitude about someone they’ve trusted their entire life. I, too, wanted him dead when it originally happened, but then I discovered I was destined for great things.”

“With Meera’s help, no doubt,” Joanna sulked.

Bran used his arms to turn himself onto his side so he faced her, their heads inches apart on the pillow. Reaching up he stroked her cheek.

“You have no reason to fear Meera,” he gently smiled at her. “Yes, she is an old friend and we’ve been through quite a bit together, but it’s not her whom I love.”

“I know,” Joanna said sullenly. “I just heard her say those things about how horrifically ironic it was that you loved me.”

“It is ironic, yes,” Bran said, kissing Joanna on the tip of her nose. “Ironic in that I once thought your father took everything from me…and now years later he’s given me everything back in the form of you…his own flesh and blood.”

Joanna looked up into his eyes at that point, stunned and touched by what he said. She began to cry again, reaching up to stroke his face and his hair.

“I’m not saying you have to forgive him immediately,” Bran said quietly, pulling her close against his chest. “But you need to know that I’m alright…that the quarrel I had with your father is long dead, and that I forgave him because he was just as broken as I was, and he meant me no ill will. He apologized to me and said he was no longer that person anymore, and honestly, he has served me well ever since. Don’t feel you have to avenge me…that will only cause a rift in your family that will become irreparable.”

Joanna stared at him for several moments before nodding. “It will take me some time,” she whispered. “But I love him, and he has always been a good man as long as I’ve known him.”

“And as I said, he gave me you,” Bran kissed her forehead. “And you make me so happy.”

Joanna leaned over and kissed him, rolling him gently onto his back as she deepened it, opening her mouth, encouraging him to do the same. His arms came around her, his fingers digging into the flesh of her back, one hand eventually boldly sliding down to caress her backside.

Joanna smiled against his lips, stopping her kisses only to utter two words.

“Marry me.”


	20. Pleasant Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime gets some much needed cheering up. Galladon gets a nighttime visitor.

Arthur tossed and turned in his bed, stuffing his pillow around his ears in an attempt to drown out Alysanne and Arianne’s incessant chatter. Even though their room was on the other side of their chambers from his, they still kept him awake sometimes.

He much preferred the quiet peace of Joanna and Brynna’s chambers. He was always able to sleep there, especially when he had Brynna to sing to him. When it looked like Alysanne and Arianne weren’t going to be stopping their conversations anytime soon, Arthur made up his mind it was definitely going to be another night spent with his two eldest sisters.

Slipping out of bed, he padded barefoot to the door and quietly slipped out into the hall. All of the Lannisters lived in one long row in the White Tower. Brienne and Jaime were in the Lord Commander’s quarters, Joanna and Brynna were in the suite next to theirs, followed by Galladon and Selwyn and then finally Arthur and the twins.

Stopping at Joanna and Brynna’s door, he reached for the handle and attempted to push the door open. When it didn’t move, Arthur scrunched up his face.

_They never lock their door._

He knocked softly and pressed his ear to the door, listening for activity. He was met with only silence. He knocked again and waited a few more minutes. When no one came, he slumped his shoulders and frowned. Looking up and down the hallway, he tried to decide where to go next.

_Mumma. I’ll go find Mumma._

Arthur knew Brienne sometimes worked late in her office, so he walked off in that direction first. Arriving at the Lord Commander’s office, he slowly pushed the door open and peeked his head around the edge. Sure enough, Brienne was seated at the large circular table. She had a few candles lit around her as she poured over scrolls and parchments. She was so engrossed in what she was doing that she didn’t even hear Arthur slip into the room.

In his bare feet, he was quiet as he walked over to her. Upon reaching his mother, he reached out and put a gentle hand on her arm and rested his head on her shoulder.

Brienne started but then looked down at him.

“Hello, my little love,” she kissed Arthur on the top of his unruly curls.

“Hello, Mumma,” Arthur answered her softly. Putting her quill down, Brienne turned in her chair to gather her youngest into her arms.

“This is a lovely surprise. What brings you here this late?”

“I can’t sleep,” he mumbled. “I tried to go see Joanna and Brynna but their door was locked,” he said sulkily, leaning against Brienne. “They never lock their door.”

Brienne sighed and hugged him to her again. “Sometimes people want to be alone, sweetling. Joanna is sad right now so she doesn’t want to see anyone.”

Arthur looked up at his mother with wide, worried blue eyes. “Why is she sad?” He whispered. “I can make her feel better, I know I can,” his voice was becoming worried.

Brienne smiled at him and pushed his hair back from his forehead. “I’m absolutely positive that you could, my darling. My sweet boy, always wanting to help others.”

Arthur smiled, and Brienne was suddenly struck with an idea.

“You know who else is sad right now and would love a visit from you?”

“Who?”

“Papa.”

Arthur’s eyes shot wide. “Papa is sad too? Why is everyone sad?” He reached out and lightly touched the hilt of _Oathkeeper_ where it lay in its sheath on the table.

Brienne sighed again, trying to figure out how to explain the situation without giving any details.

“Sometimes people fight,” she said. “Even family members. You know how you get annoyed with Arianne and Alysanne sometimes?”

Arthur rolled his eyes and groaned. “Ugh, yes.”

Brienne giggled and brushed his hair back again. “Well, it’s very much like that. Sometimes people don’t agree or someone does something that makes the other person angry. It’s a natural part of life, and it teaches us how to be compassionate and to forgive one another.”

Arthur scrunched up his face and nodded. “I understand. Where is Papa now?”

“He’s in our rooms, darling, waiting for me, I assume,” Brienne added with a smile. “Do you want to go see him? I’m sure he’d love a visit from you.”

“Okay,” Arthur said quietly.

Brienne hugged him again and gave him one more kiss on the forehead.

“Tell him I’ll be there soon.”

Arthur nodded and left, closing Brienne’s office door quietly behind him. He was always mildly amazed at how quiet the halls were late at night. When it was this quiet he could hear the hiss of the torches along the walls, as well as the low howl of the breezes outside. Walking back down the hallway the way he came originally, he stopped at his parents’ chambers. Reaching out, he slowly pushed the door open and peeked inside.

“Papa?” He called softly.

Arthur crept into the room and shut the door. There were candles lit and a cozy fire roaring in the hearth, but no Jaime anywhere in sight. After looking around for a few moments, he finally spotted his father sitting outside on the patio, taking in the night air and the nighttime views of the city.

“Papa?”

Jaime turned and smiled softly upon seeing his youngest.

“Well, hello, sweetling,” he said, reaching his hand out to Arthur. “I surely didn’t expect to see you at this hour.”

Arthur took Jaime’s hand and let his father pull him over to where he sat. Putting his hands on Jaime’s arm, Arthur stood next to the chair.

“I couldn’t sleep. Alysanne and Arianne won’t stop talking,” he rolled his eyes, making Jaime laugh. “Then I went to see Joanna and Brynna but their door was locked.” He pouted.

Jaime’s expression grew sad for a moment as Arthur continued.

“Then I went to see Mumma, who told me you were sad and that I should come see you to fix it. I can fix it, Papa.” He reached out and put his hand on Jaime’s cheek.

Jaime’s eyes grew misty and he smiled at his son. “Your mother…always thinking of me…and look at that she sent me a savior,” he chuckled.

“She said to say she would be here soon.”

“Oh, good, she knows how lonely I get without her,” Jaime smirked.

Arthur grinned and climbed up on Jaime’s lap, draping his legs over the arm of the chair, much like his mother did when she sat in the same place. Jaime gripped one of Arthur’s legs and held it up in the air. Arthur giggled and fell backwards onto Jaime’s other arm.

“Look at these legs! They’re getting so long! You look like a newborn colt with these legs. At this rate you’re going to be taller than me _and_ your mother.”

Arthur continued laughing, struggling to sit up as Jaime playfully wrestled with him. When he finally caught his breath and shifted to make himself more comfortable, Jaime stared at him and smiled, reaching up to stroke his son’s cheek.

“My sweet boy,” he said, a single tear rolling down his face. “I hope you never change.” He put his arms around Arthur and pulled him to his chest, laying his son’s head on his shoulder. Arthur put his arms around Jaime’s neck in return.

“Do you know how you came about your name?” Jaime suddenly said.

Arthur shook his head. “Nuh uh.”

“You are named after one of the greatest knights in Westeros’ history…Ser Arthur Dayne. He was the man who knighted me.”

Arthur’s head came up, his eyes wide. “Wow,” he whispered. “Really?”

Jaime nodded. “Mmm hmm. He was the best, bravest, and most noble knight I ever knew…apart from your mother, of course,” he chuckled.

“Mumma is the best,” Arthur agreed.

“Yes, she is. But, yes, Ser Arthur Dayne was the pinnacle of knighthood. He was kind, generous, very brave, stood up for those who couldn’t fight for themselves…I wanted to be just like him. And I was so proud when he chose to knight me. Being knighted by your hero is quite something.”

“Are you Mumma’s hero?”

Jaime stopped and looked at his son’s innocent face, taken aback by what he was just asked. A lump suddenly formed in his throat and tears came to his eyes. He smiled sadly.

“Well, I guess that’s something we’re going to have to ask her,” he whispered.

“I bet you’re her hero, because you knighted her,” Arthur said as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

“Well, she’s definitely mine,” Jaime said.

“And Arthur Dayne.”

Jaime let out a laugh. “Yes, and Arthur Dayne.”

“So, why are you sad, Papa?”

Jaime sighed and blew air out through his nose. “Joanna and I had an argument, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” Arthur looked down and toyed with the buckles on Jaime’s leather jerkin. “Maybe that’s why she’s sad too. Mumma said sometimes people get angry with each other and that it teaches us how to forgive.”

“Your mother is very wise,” Jaime said, smoothing Arthur’s hair back the way Brienne had done earlier. “But you know what? She was right…seeing you has made me feel much better.”

Arthur looked up at Jaime and grinned. “I told you I could fix it!”

Jaime smiled back at him. “Yes, sweetling, you most certainly did.”

“I’ll fix Joanna too and make her forgive you. Did you forgive her?”

Jaime brought his forehead against Arthur’s. “I forgave her the moment it happened,” he whispered.

“Then I know she’ll forgive you, I’ll make sure of it,” Arthur winked conspiratorially at his father.

Jaime let out a loud laugh and tickled Arthur’s ribs, making his son giggle and squirm.

“Well, now, this seems like a happy gathering,” Brienne had suddenly appeared. Jaime and Arthur looked up at her and smiled identical grins. Jaime reached out to her with his hand. She took it and walked over to them.

Leaning down she kissed Jaime and he hummed quietly against her lips. She then kissed Arthur on the forehead.

“See, I knew Papa would be happy to see you, my darling.” She kissed Jaime on the cheek again. “Glass of wine?”

Jaime’s face brightened. “Oh, yes, please, love.”

Brienne disappeared inside and returned moments later with two goblets of wine and a blanket draped over her arm. Setting the goblets on the table, she then placed the blanket over Jaime and Arthur, making sure to cover her son’s bare feet against the night breezes. Arthur snuggled himself against Jaime’s chest as Brienne moved another chair over and set it against her husband’s. She then retrieved the goblets again and handed one to Jaime, settling herself in her chair and leaning up against him.

Peace and contentment washed over Jaime for the first time since the confrontation with Joanna. With one of his children curled warm against him and his wife next to him, a goblet of wine and the torchlit view of the city…yes, he was quite content. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Brienne’s temple.

Brienne reached over and pulled Arthur’s feet into her lap so he was spread out across both of them. She pulled the edge of the blanket over herself as well to keep them all covered. They sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the twinkling torchlight far below. Brienne finally looked over and saw that Arthur had fallen asleep. She smiled fondly.

“He’s getting too big to sit on laps anymore,” she whispered sadly. Jaime looked down at his sleeping son.

“He’ll always be our baby, though,” he noted, laying his cheek against Arthur’s hair.

“That he will,” Brienne replied, reaching over to gently brush a few of Arthur’s curls away from his face. “Let’s put him in our spare room for the night. He’ll sleep better I think.”

“Alright,” Jaime turned to Brienne and kissed her softly. “That means we’ll have to be quiet tonight,” he waggled his eyebrows and gave her a lecherous grin.

Brienne snorted and giggled. “I’m sure we can manage,” she said, giving him a sultry stare of her own.

They finished their wine and Brienne collected their goblets as Jaime stood up with Arthur cradled in his arms.

“I’ll get him settled,” he said, leaning over to kiss Brienne one more time. “And then I’ll meet you in bed.” He winked at her.

“We’ll have to wear nightshirts tonight, in case he wanders in,” Brienne chuckled. Jaime pouted.

“We haven’t worn anything to bed the entire time we’ve been married…mostly,” he smirked.

Brienne laughed softly and caressed his cheek. “We’ll survive.”

_“You_ might.”

Jaime shuffled off to deposit Arthur in their spare room while Brienne rinsed the goblets in the washbasin by the hearth. Stoking the fire to a roaring glow, she set about undressing and got into her nightshirt. Jaime reappeared a few minutes later, once again pouting when he saw Brienne in her sleep shirt. She smiled and shook her head and crooked her finger at him.

He walked over to her and kissed her softly as she began relieving him of his clothing. Laying his garments on the small bench at the foot of their bed, she made him raise his arms as she pulled his own nightshirt down over his head.

Jaime groaned and whined. “Do we really have to wear these?”

“Yes, unless you want to traumatize our eleven-year-old son in case he goes wandering in the night…or wakes up before we do in the morning.”

Jaime pulled Brienne into his arms and began lifting up the hem of her nightshirt. “Good thing these allow easy access,” he murmured huskily.

Brienne reached down to caress his arse through the thin cotton fabric. “Come on, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

They kissed their way to the bed, groping at each other along the way. Reaching behind her, Brienne pulled the covers back and climbed in, shifting over to the middle of the bed. Rolling onto her back, she pulled Jaime down on top of her, her traitorous legs falling open automatically to accommodate him. They worked together to ruck up their shifts until they were exposed enough so Jaime could sink his cock into her.

Jaime groaned softly into Brienne’s mouth once he was sheathed inside her. Brienne giggled softly.

“Shhh,” she hushed him and she weaved her arms around his neck, bringing her legs up and wrapping them around his hips.

Jaime kissed her deeply again as he began his gentle thrusts. Now it was Brienne who was having a difficult time keeping quiet.

“Remember, you have to be quiet,” he teased her in a husky whisper.

Brienne closed her eyes and tilted her head back into the pillow. Wrapping her legs more tightly around Jaime, she pressed the heels of her feet into his backside, gripping his flesh with her toes. Jaime smiled and began placing lingering kisses on her neck, shoving his face into her hair to nibble on that particularly sensitive spot behind her ear.

“I told Arthur how he got his name,” he drawled in between nips.

“Oh?” Brienne said breathily, gasping as he hit that spot again and rubbed his beard over it.

“I told him it was quite something to be knighted by one’s hero,” Jaime said as he thrust even deeper into her. Brienne smiled and gently dug her nails into his back through his shirt.

“He then asked me if I was your hero because I knighted you.” Another kiss.

“Oh, you most definitely are, my love,” Brienne sighed. “My big, strong, handsome…”

“Oh, yes, that’s it, keep going,” Jaime smiled as his kisses became more amorous.

“…noble, honorable, absolutely _delicious…”_

Jaime’s thrusts increased in intensity and speed. “Yes, love, tell me more.”

Brienne giggled at how easily aroused he got whenever she complimented him.

“…wonderfully pleasant to gaze upon, firm-arsed, _magnificent,_ golden-maned lion…”

That did it. Jaime bit down on her shoulder to keep from roaring like said lion as his body tensed and he released inside her. He thrust a few more times as he spilled and then finally collapsed on top of Brienne, whereupon she immediately began stroking his hair in the way he loved. He began his purring.

“You’re so much fun to get riled up that way,” Brienne giggled.

“How can I resist being fawned over by my lovely wife? Those words coming from anyone else would ring somewhat hollow, but coming from you…” he growled playfully and kissed the hollow of her throat. “It gets my juices flowing.”

“And I do like it when your juices flow,” Brienne quipped.

“Brienne Lannister, you tawdry woman,” Jaime began tickling her. Brienne squeaked and wriggled around underneath him.

“Jaime, stop!” She said while laughing. “We have to be quiet, remember?”

Jaime lifted his head and gave her a mischievous glare. Pushing her nightshirt up, he began kissing his way down her body, gently parting her legs even further.

“Oh good, I do love a challenge.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Galladon looked up every few minutes from his reading, paranoid that someone would suddenly walk in and catch him. He realized that was silly as it was well after the hour of the owl and most everyone was asleep except the city guard and whoever was on duty outside Bran’s chambers at the moment.

He had a single candle lit on the nightstand next to his bed, which threw just enough light so he could see illustration after erotic illustration in the book he had been gifted. He kept picturing himself and Nymeria in every one of the acts he poured over, making sure to exclude the ones that contained actual copulation. Even now he stood by his beliefs…he would not dishonor her before marriage.

He was having a difficult time controlling his cock as he continued making his way through the book. Rolling his eyes and shifting himself into a more comfortable position, he attempted to get himself back under control, only to be foiled again by his traitorous body as he moved to the next page.

The handle on his door suddenly moved. The door swung open and Galladon jumped, quickly shoving the book under his pillow.

“Hey, Gall…” it was Selwyn.

“Nothing!” Galladon shouted back at him.

Selwyn flinched and moved back a bit, his eyebrows rising. “Uh...alright,” he said, shaking his head. “I was merely coming in to tell you I’m hungry and I’m going to go down to the kitchens to look for something to eat. Do you want anything?”

“Oh, uh…sure, thanks…whatever you can find is fine,” Galladon said, flustered.

“That’s a rather broad range,” Selwyn quipped. “Want anything specific?”

Galladon shook his head. “No.”

“Alright then, I’ll see what I can find. I’ll be back,” Selwyn said, closing Galladon’s bedroom door behind him once more.

Galladon let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. He remained still and waited until he heard the outside door to their chambers close before once again reaching under his pillow to retrieve his book.

He thumbed through it for another ten minutes or so before his door moved again. It opened slowly this time as Galladon once again shoved the book out of sight.

“That was quick, was there anything---”

The words halted in his throat when he realized he wasn’t staring at his brother, but into the grey eyes of Nymeria Baratheon. Galladon’s mouth dropped open as he slowly sat up, clutching his blankets to his chest. Nymeria raised an eyebrow and smirked at him.

“Suddenly shy, Golden Boy?”

Galladon’s body immediately responded to her voice. She was dressed in her nightshirt and a robe, the black waves of her hair falling all around her shoulders and down her back. Tiptoeing into his room, Nymeria softly shut the door behind her, walked over to his bed and stood there.

“How…how did you get in here?” Galladon whispered.

Nymeria smirked again. “Pure luck really,” she said. “I came here with no immediate plan, until I saw Selwyn leave and head off somewhere, so I figured it was safe.” She leaned forward over the bed. “What are you reading?”

Galladon swallowed nervously. “Reading? N-nothing,” he nervously fingered the open collar of his nightshirt.

Nymeria crawled up onto his bed and reached slowly under his pillow, never taking her eyes off his. Galladon once again looked like the spooked forest animal like he did the first night at the brothel. Nymeria pulled the book out and looked it over.

“My, my, Golden Boy, what _have_ you been up to?” She teased him.

“I…uh…it was a…gift.”

Nymeria crawled over him, dragging the book with her, and settled herself against him, curling her legs under her. Leaning into Galladon’s side she placed the book in his lap. Looking up at him, she smiled. Galladon flushed deeper red than his mother usually did and cleared his throat. Gazing down at her, he was mesmerized.

“Why are you here?” He asked in wonderment. “I mean…not that I’m not happy to see you, of course,” he quickly added.

Nymeria smirked again and reached up to caress his cheek. Galladon’s breath caught in his chest.

“I missed you,” she said simply.

“Oh,” Galladon smiled and blushed further, looking down shyly.

“So, are you going to show me this…gift?” Nymeria cooed at him, slinking her hand over to open the cover.

“I…uh…really don’t think you’d…”

“Well, Galladon Lannister, you little minx,” Nymeria said, already flipping through the pages. “Where in the seven hells did you get this?” She gave him a look of mock astonishment, which flustered him even more.

“From…uh…from some…friends.”

“You must have interesting friends,” Nymeria snarked.

“You could say that, yes,” Galladon heaved a huge sigh. “I got it in a brothel,” he murmured.

Nymeria let out a laugh. _“Very_ interesting friends.”

“Selwyn tricked me one night and took me there. I told him I only wanted to go out for a drink, but he had other plans in mind,” Galladon rolled his eyes. “Basically, when I made it very clear I did not want what they were offering, I actually started chatting with them, and we had a very nice time.”

Nymeria smiled and shook her head. “Golden Boy, you really are one of a kind. I don’t know any man who could walk into a brothel and refuse being bedded.” She leaned up and pressed a slow kiss to his cheek. “It’s very alluring,” she whispered.

Galladon snorted and gave her a side-eyed glance. “I’m glad you approve.”

Nymeria once again settled against Galladon, returning her attention to the book. As she read, she absent-mindedly reached up and began playing with one of Galladon’s golden curls, twirling it back and forth in her fingers.

“So, what have you learned?”

“If you _must_ know,” he groused. “I’m trying to figure out what we can do without…you know…doing…_that.”_

She brought her face close to his again. “You mean _fucking?”_ She whispered, inches from his lips.

“Yes, I mean _fucking,”_ Galladon whispered back, widening his eyes and rubbing the tip of his nose playfully against hers.

Nymeria giggled and suddenly realized she had been playing with his hair and jerked her hand away. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I had been doing that.” She grinned sheepishly.

Galladon’s eyes darkened and his voice lowered to an almost whisper. He gave her a playful smirk. “You _can_ touch me, you know. After all, I do belong to you now.” The smirk went away.

Nymeria’s heart stopped in her chest and the air between them hung silently for a few moments. Galladon broke the tension by rolling onto his side to face her and taking one of her long black tendrils of hair in his hand.

“Here, I’ll do it too if it makes you feel better.” He smiled and began to twirl her hair between his fingers.

Nymeria laughed and laid down facing him. “Fair enough.”

They stared at each other for several moments, the book momentarily forgotten.

“You really are so beautiful.” Galladon whispered as he continued to stroke her hair. He pulled it to his face and smelled it. He then inched closer to her and took a few more of her waves into his hand. Nymeria was frozen in place, feeling his warmth as he moved towards her.

Her eyes suddenly opened wide as she heard noise outside the room. Galladon gasped and sat up, realizing Selwyn had returned. Quickly pulling his covers down, he motioned for Nymeria to get under them. She scampered under the blankets and pressed herself to Galladon’s back as he rolled over to face the door, positioning himself so she was hidden behind him. He could feel her gripping handfuls of his nightshirt in her fists in her nervousness.

Galladon’s bedroom door opened and Selwyn entered, carrying two small burlap bags. He handed one to his brother.

“Here you go…some cold meat, cheese, fruit, and a bit of bread.”

Galladon chuckled, attempting to remain as nonchalant as possible. “You weren’t kidding, you really were hungry.”

Selwyn shrugged and grinned, taking a bite of the apple he pulled out of his own bag. “I can’t sleep when I’m hungry,” he held up the bag. “This should do the trick.” He winked and turned to leave. “Night, brother.”

“Thanks, Sel, good night.” The door closed.

Galladon waited until he heard Selwyn’s bedroom door close before letting out his breath. Nymeria peeked her head out from under the covers.

“Is it safe?” She whispered.

“I think so…and look! We have snacks!” Galladon chuckled, holding up the bag of food triumphantly.

“That was nice of your brother,” Nymeria giggled in return, already reaching to open the bag.

They ate together, quietly chatting about anything and everything. She told him stories about how Arya had trained her to fight, and how she loved helping Gendry with the running of Storm’s End. How she loved walking around the castle at night when it was quiet.

In return, Galladon regaled her with tales about squiring, aspiring to knighthood, his likes and dislikes, his friends from the brothel…basking in the glow of someone actually wanting to know about him and what he cared about.

Once the conversation reached a lull, they sat in silence, just staring at each other. Galladon laid down on his side and propped his head on his hand. Nymeria sat cross-legged next to him, suddenly at a loss for words. She blushed and dropped her eyes, staring at her hands in her lap.

Galladon reached out to take one of her hands in his. Bringing it to his lips, he placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles. Nymeria smiled.

“Golden Boy…you have to know,” she said softly. “I’ve never…_done_ this before.”

“Done what?”

She sighed and gestured back and forth between them. _“This_…what I think we’re about to do.”

Galladon could feel her getting agitated. He stroked her hand, attempting to soothe her.

“It’s alright, my love…I’ve never done this either, and I meant what I said, I will not dishonor you…nor would I ever force myself on you.”

Nymeria smiled. “I know you wouldn’t,” she took his hand in both of hers. “You’re a good man, Golden Boy. Just as you say I’m unlike anyone you’ve ever met…I could say the exact same about you.”

In order to prove her point, she mustered her courage and brought his hand up to her chest, bringing it to rest against her breastbone.

“Can you feel that?” she asked, her voice trembling. Galladon slowly sat up and faced her, spreading his fingers out across her nightshirt.

“Yes,” he whispered. He could feel her heart pounding under his hand. Nymeria put her hand over his and looked up into his eyes. She was becoming more relaxed and actually more curious. With her other hand, she reached out and slipped it into the open collar of his nightshirt, bringing it to rest over his heart. She smiled at him.

“I feel you too,” she whispered.

Truth be told, Galladon was probably even more nervous than she was. He smiled briefly then grew serious again. Removing his hand from her chest, he slowly began to pull his nightshirt up and eventually over his head, his eyes never leaving Nymeria’s face. She watched him, her heart pounding, yet it thrilled her to watch his movements. She took particular notice of his hands…so long and graceful, and she found herself wondering what they would feel like against her bare skin.

Nymeria suddenly found herself at a disadvantage to the power of Galladon’s beauty as her eyes ran over his torso and shoulders, the long curls of his hair even more golden in the candlelight.

_He looks like half a god._

Galladon dropped his nightshirt on the floor, now naked as his name day, his bottom half still hidden under the covers. Taking a deep breath, he sat up straighter before her and suddenly blushed. He laughed.

“You know something?” he turned his head to the side playfully and gave Nymeria a full smile. “It just hit me that I’m extremely nervous.”

That realization made Nymeria heave out a huge sigh of relief and laugh along with him. “This just all seems so crazy, Golden Boy. It happened so quickly, and yet I feel I’ve known you for years.” She laughed again, but took his hand in hers.

He laughed as well. “Yeah, I suppose it does seem a little ridiculous.” He grew thoughtful again. “But it also feels so right. I don’t know any other way to explain it, Nym, there will just be no one else for me…ever.”

She smiled and reached up to stroke his cheek. “My sweet Golden Boy,” she said. He smiled again and kissed the palm of her hand.

“Nymeria Baratheon, I hereby make you this private vow,” Galladon said softly. “I am now, and forever will be yours and only yours, if you’ll have me.”

Silent tears suddenly welled in Nymeria’s smoky eyes, but she smiled up at him and nodded. She ran her hands up his back and pulled him closer. Galladon dipped his head down and kissed her softly, then again on her forehead while he wiped tears from her face with his thumbs.

“Galladon, as you are mine, I am yours…please, make me yours.” She kissed him deeply and hungrily, and both of them were equally surprised at her sudden rush of bravery. While Galladon may never have gone to bed with anyone before, his body seemed to know what to do, and it responded almost immediately. The stirrings in his groin were like nothing he had ever felt before, and he grew hard against her. Without thinking, he crushed her to his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

Nymeria continued to kiss him as if she depended on him for air.

_Gods can he KISS!_

Galladon moaned softly into her mouth, trying not to lose control and clumsily paw her all over her body. Nymeria broke away and sat back to look at him. Galladon’s skin glowed in the dim light, and his eyes had darkened with desire. Nymeria ran her hands over his belly and his chest, eliciting faster breathing from him, as well as a quiet moan. She moved her hands lower and paused at the edge of the blanket concealing the bottom half of Galladon’s body. She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. He nodded and smiled. “It’s alright, go ahead.”

Before pulling the blanket down, she tentatively ran her hand over his groin through the material, amazed at how hard the flesh was underneath her hand. She stopped and gently ran her fingers over it, and this time she got a gasp out of Galladon as well as some muscle twitches in his belly. His breathing intensified as she slipped her hand underneath the cover and slid it slowly down over his hip.

Galladon dropped his voice to a whisper and repeated his earlier words. “You _can_ touch me, you know. After all, I do belong to you now.”

Nymeria looked up into his eyes and moved to sit up on her knees. Reaching out, she took his hips in her hands. Galladon smiled and slowly rolled onto his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows, letting her look him over and touch him wherever she wanted. He looked like some sleek animal to her with the candlelight throwing shadows across his body. She slowly ran her fingers over his skin, over his back, and down to the muscular swell of his backside, where she lingered a bit.

Nymeria gently squeezed him with both hands and smiled. “I like this here.”

Galladon laughed and turned again to face her. She ran her hands over his belly and down to his groin. She paused, not entirely sure how to proceed. Sensing her nervousness, he took her face in his hand.

“It’s ok, take your time, there’s no rush.”

Nymeria suddenly sat back and tilted her head. “What do you say we even the tourney field?” She smirked at him and turned her back to him. Gathering her voluminous hair over her shoulder, she looked back at him. “I need your help, though.”

A nervous grin came over Galladon’s face as he sat up and began slowly pulling up her nightshirt. His hands shook with a mixture of nerves and excitement. Once he had pulled the hem up past her hips, he slid his hands up to her back to her shoulders, bringing her nightshirt with him. With Nymeria’s hair slung over her right shoulder, he pushed the material forward over her head until it was free from her body. Leaning forward, he began planting soft kisses along the back of her neck down to her shoulder. Nymeria closed her eyes and shuddered. His lips were soft yet insistent, and she could tell he was holding back as well as he could.

_By the gods, what he can do with that mouth of his…_

Galladon slid his hands down further to her sides. She was warm and soft, and he moved his hands slowly forward, then stopped, waiting to see how she would react.

Nymeria reacted by putting her hands on top of his, and moving them to her breasts. Galladon’s breath hitched in his throat and his hands remained frozen in place, not sure how far he should push it. Nymeria leaned back against his chest and slowly guided his hands in hers, gently stroking her skin, down to her belly, back up to her breasts where she moved his hands in slow circles.

Galladon marveled at how soft and smooth she was. He closed his eyes and let her guide him, erotically thrilled that she was taking the lead on this. He let out a small laugh and growled into her ear…

“I thought you didn’t know what you were doing.”

“I don’t,” Nymeria said in a whisper, her eyes closed. “I’m just sort of going with it.” She let out a small chuckle herself.

She released his hands and moved her own up to tangle them in his hair. Galladon slowly moved his hands down her sides, down and over her hips, continuing down to stroke her thighs and her lower stomach. Planting kisses on her neck again, he lingered on her hips, bringing his hands around the back of her to caress her buttocks.

“I like this here,” he said with a smile, mimicking her earlier words about his own backside.

Nymeria laughed and let out a surprised gasp as he pressed his apparent need against her lower back. Turning around in his embrace, she tentatively reached out, running her fingertips up and down his shaft, making Galladon shudder once again.

“It’s so warm,” she marveled at actually touching a naked man for the first time. Of course, she knew what the male anatomy entailed, but she had never been this close to a naked man, much less touched one. She was also surprised at what she was feeling in her own nether regions. There was a small, slow throbbing happening as well as her own heat being generated. She found that it emboldened her and she began giving him open-mouthed kisses across his chest.

“Lie down,” she whispered. He leaned down to kiss her first, but obeyed. Galladon laid down on his back and Nymeria kneeled over him, again running her fingertips over his skin, from his chest down to his thighs and finally to his cock. She hesitated and looked at him before going any further. She raised an eyebrow.

“Is it ok?”

Looking up at her, Galladon was hopelessly lost. His eyes roamed over every inch of her curves, the way her wild hair fell across her breasts, her grey eyes in the candlelight. She looked like a feral warrior maiden to him at that moment. He grinned and fixed her with a sleepy aroused look.

“Of course, my love, as I said, I am yours.”

She cupped him first. Galladon closed his eyes and arched his back, his legs lazily opening against his will. He raised one leg to bend his knee, while the other leg slid off the bed. Nymeria moved between his legs and leaned her back against his raised knee, pulling his other leg up to rest it across her lap. She continued slowly teasing him, and ran the flat of her hand slowly up his stiffness, which was now at full erection and resting against his belly. His eyes were still closed and he was moaning softly and beginning to squirm.

_By the gods, he’s magnificent._

Nymeria smiled to herself. She had never felt so much control over someone in her life. She applied a small amount of pressure and wrapped her hand around him. With her other hand she stroked the inner part of his left thigh. Galladon let out a groan and arched his back again. Incredibly aroused by his reactions, Nymeria began to stroke him harder. Galladon’s lips gently parted and he let out a cry this time, his hips pressing upwards against her hand. He was sweating and obviously trying to hold back.

“Nymeria, I…” but he couldn’t fight it and he spilled all over his belly. His hips bucked in small spasms as he released, his hands grabbing fistfuls of bedding. Nymeria jumped and her own mouth fell open as she watched him.

_Did I hurt him? Did I do something I shouldn’t have?_

Galladon eventually stilled, breathing heavily and smiling from ear to ear. She came to the conclusion she hadn’t hurt him after all.

“Is that supposed to happen?” Nymeria asked him. “I didn’t realize it would be quite so…messy.”

His eyes still closed, Galladon nodded.

“Yes, love…only, uh…not quite so quickly.” He looked sheepishly up at her and raised one corner of his mouth into a bashful smirk. Nymeria looked him over, studying the slopes of his muscles and the soft golden fuzz that went from his navel down to his nest of darker golden curls. Sliding his leg off the bed, he reached for his discarded nightshirt. Gripping it in his toes, Galladon pulled it up and then wiped his stomach clean as he lay in blissful peace, a small smile on his face, Nymeria picked up the leg she was leaning against and ducked under it, crawling up to lay beside him.

“How long before you can do that again?” She grinned wide.

Galladon looked sideways at her and gave her a predatory grin.

“Oh no, no…it’s your turn now.”

And he dove for her as she giggled and wrapped her arms around him.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a rare luxury when Brienne was able to sleep on her stomach. Between having spent a good portion of ten years pregnant and Jaime attaching himself to her every night before she even had a chance to really get settled, Brienne usually slept on her back or her side, depending mostly on where Jaime tucked himself around her.

Tonight however, Jaime had rolled away, which he usually did when he got too warm. He made sure his leg was up against her though, as he always had to be touching her in bed. Brienne took the opportunity to roll over onto her stomach and sprawl out. Sighing happily, she stretched out her legs, eventually bending her left one out to the side, leaving her right one straight so Jaime had his anchor. The cool night breeze coming in from the patio stirred Brienne’s hair, and she pulled the covers down so she could relish the feel of the air on her back.

She didn’t know how long she had been asleep when she started hearing the noise. It weaved its way into her dreams, pulling her towards consciousness. Slowly coming awake, Brienne realized the noise was coming from Jaime. He was quietly whimpering in his sleep.

Before Brienne could roll over, Jaime began moving around, locked in his nightmare. He rolled towards her and ended up laying halfway across her back. He threw one of his legs over her backside and began pawing at her with his hand. His cries escalated and Brienne tried to turn towards him but his weight on her kept her on her stomach.

She reached back and began to soothingly stroke his thigh that was laying across her buttocks. She could feel the soft hairs on his leg stand on end as she rubbed him.

“Jaime,” she said, trying to calm him down. He was still asleep, and his distress broke Brienne’s heart. He was trying to reach under her for something, his hand running up and down her side, attempting to snake its way underneath her so he could cling to her.

Brienne raised herself up a bit and Jaime’s hand found her left breast. Closing his fingers around it, its softness and familiarity began to calm him, along with Brienne’s gentle stroking of his muscular thigh. His thrashing began to subside somewhat.

“That’s it, Jaime, shhh,” Brienne soothed him as he began to sink his weight against her. “It’s alright, my love, it’s alright.”

Brienne felt him tighten his leg around her and also pull her backwards into his chest. Nuzzling his face in between her shoulder blades, he went from whimpering to humming contentedly. Although he never fully came awake, at least he had broken free from his dreams. Brienne continued to caress this thigh and partway down his calf until he fully settled again. Jaime’s hand twitched and tightened gently around her breast.

Brienne wished she had the answer for their current predicament. She didn’t know how long it would take Joanna to understand or forgive…if she ever would at all. Jaime was back in the personal hell of his past, something Brienne had hoped he had finally been free of. At least he had her this time to keep him grounded and let him know he was loved, and they had six other children who, at least for the time being, adored their father. The last thing Brienne needed or wanted was to have to choose between Jaime and one or any number of their children.

Jaime’s breathing finally evened out again and against her back, Brienne could feel his heartbeat slowing down. Reaching up, she placed her hand over his and stroked his knuckles.

“It will be alright, love, you’ll see,” Brienne whispered. “Joanna will come around.”

And if she didn’t…gods help them all.


	21. Solicited Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joanna makes the rounds in order to get advice on how to approach her father. She also makes up with her mother. Galladon and Nymeria continue to be horny sixteen-year-olds.

Meera sat by Bran’s bedside as he lay in another white-eyed trance. They had been working seemingly non-stop for over a sennight now, but the good news was that Bran was progressing quickly and masterfully. He had been able to gain control over where throughout time he went, for how long, and he could return when he willed it. His brain felt less jumbled and chaotic and was now much more organized and controllable.

Most importantly, he had a betrothed now, and his love for her grew every day, which only helped him keep focus on what was important to him and what he wanted. He felt he was finally on the road to getting his life back, and for the first time since he had been injured…he was looking forward to his future.

He was especially proud of the fact that he had kept his vow to both himself and Brienne, and had not influenced Joanna’s decisions whatsoever.

He was currently standing on the top of the Wall, sometime in the past, watching Jon Snow walk the ramparts with his Night Watch brothers. It was oddly peaceful here, even though the wind buffeted him and stung his eyes. Bran smiled watching how Jon’s comrades respected him and enjoyed his company. He then grew sad, knowing that he was witnessing one of the last moments of quiet that Jon would know before the Wildling attack, his own murder and resurrection, and eventually the Night King bringing down the Wall.

Moving on, he suddenly found himself back at Winterfell, his heart seizing in longing as he watched his parents sitting quietly by the hearth in their chambers. They were discussing Ned’s offer of becoming Hand of the King…an offer Bran wished his father had never accepted. He sat watching them for a long time, simply happy to be in their presence again.

Eventually closing his eyes in his vision, Bran decided to let his powers take him where they would, and let instinct take over. This time he found himself sitting in the courtyard of a castle that sat high on a cliff. It was a beautiful spring day, and looking around and taking in his surroundings, Bran noticed two young boys playing under a tree. He estimated the older one to be around nine or ten, the younger one seemed about two or three years of age. Upon closer inspection, he noted the younger one was malformed. It was then he realized he was looking at Jaime and Tyrion. He was at Casterly Rock.

He felt a sudden lump in his throat as he watched them play together. From numerous conversations with Tyrion, Bran knew that he had had an awful childhood and that Jaime had been the only one who had been kind to him. The brothers were currently playing knights and dragons, with Jaime crawling around on all fours, roaring like a dragon while Tyrion squealed with glee and pretended to run him through with an invisible sword. It made Bran think of his own childhood. Before…

He was suddenly roused from his thoughts as he saw a young blonde girl come storming across the yard. From the set of her chin and her glittering green eyes, Bran guessed this was Cersei. He was even more certain when she opened her mouth.

“Jaime! You’re supposed to be playing with _me_ now,” she exclaimed. Casting a disgusted look at Tyrion, she continued. “Leave that _thing_ alone and come with me.”

Tyrion’s face, which had been joyous only moments ago, fell quickly into sadness and he moved to stand behind his brother, clinging onto his tunic and peeking around Jaime’s arm at his horrid sister. Jaime drew himself up to his full height and stuck out his chin.

“No, Cersei, I’m playing with Tyrion right now,” Jaime said. “I’ll play with you later.”

Cersei’s nostrils flared and she balled her hands into fists.

“You’re _my_ twin, you’re supposed to do what _I_ say.”

Jaime put his arm around Tyrion. “Cersei, why don’t we all play together? Tyrion is your brother too, and we were having such fun. We can pick a game we all like.”

“I’m not playing with _him!_ He’s a freak and a monster! Now come with me!”

Tyrion retreated behind Jaime again, not wanting to look at Cersei. Jaime took a breath.

“No, Cersei, I’m not leaving. I was here first.”

Cersei stormed up to Jaime and slapped him across the face. “You’re so stupid! You’re the stupidest Lannister ever!”

Jaime felt Tyrion flinch behind him, and he reached to place his hand on his brother’s arm to settle him. He didn’t cower before his sister however, and keeping his composure, he stared her down.

“Call me whatever you want, Cersei, I’m not leaving him.”

Cersei merely growled and turned her back on them and stomped away, her blonde curls bouncing as she dramatically stormed off. Jaime sighed and turned to face Tyrion. Kneeling down, he drew his little brother into an embrace.

“It’s alright, she’s gone now,” he whispered. Tyrion reached up to touch Jaime’s cheek where Cersei had slapped him.

“She hit you,” he said.

Jaime gave Tyrion a brave smile. “Don’t worry, I’m alright,” he said, although Bran could see in Jaime's eyes that he was lying.

Jaime hugged Tyrion to him again, resting his cheek on top of Tyrion’s fluffy curls so that his little brother couldn’t see his tears. Bran stood watching them for a few moments more before he felt compelled to move on.

He blinked again and suddenly he was somewhere else.

Looking around, he saw he was in the dim great hall of a castle. It was night, the hall was torchlit, and the mood was very somber. Courtiers were scattered around the room, engrossed in quiet conversations. Every now and then, Bran noticed one or a few of them glance towards the front of the hall. Following their gaze, he noticed there was a casket…and kneeling on a chair pulled up next to it, her head resting on the edge, was a little blonde girl. Bran slowly walked over, never taking his eyes off her. As he got closer, he realized the girl was speaking, and that her hand was resting on the hand of the body lying in the coffin.

His heart clenched and tears suddenly rolled down his face as he realized this was four-year-old Brienne trying to talk to the body of her dead brother, Galladon. Bran listened as she told her brother’s still form about things she had been doing, how there were so many people around and all she wanted to do was to be playing with him on the beach.

Tarth. He was on Tarth, and this was Evenfall Hall.

“Papa told me you have to sleep now,” young Brienne whispered, sniffling quietly. “He said I can’t go swimming for a while,” she gently patted Galladon’s lifeless hand. “I wish you would wake up so we can go swimming again.”

Bran went to her and stupidly tried to hug her before remembering that he was just a shade watching past events. Brienne could neither see nor feel him of course, but he wanted to comfort her in the worst way.

Even though no one could see or hear him, Bran found himself jerking away when Lord Selwyn Tarth approached Brienne and picked her up, settling her in his lap as he sat in the chair she had just been kneeling on. His face was expressionless and his eyes were red and tired. Brienne laid her head against his chest and fiddled with the buckles on his greatcoat. Selwyn held her tightly against him, resting his cheek on her head.

“Papa, when will Galladon wake up?” Brienne said softly.

Selwyn squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in her hair. Kissing her on the forehead, he took a deep breath and sighed.

“He won’t, Starlight,” he said quietly to her.

“Oh,” Brienne looked at her lap. “Just like Mumma.”

“Yes, my Starlight, just like Mumma,” Selwyn’s voice cracked and he kissed her on the top of her head this time. Brienne looked up at her father.

“Why does everyone go to sleep and not wake up? Was I bad?”

A tear rolled down Selwyn’s cheek as he began stroking her hair.

“Oh, no, no, Starlight,” he tried to give her a smile. “You weren’t bad at all. You are exceptionally good, my darling.” He shifted Brienne in his lap and held her tight. “Life can be very cruel, sweetling. But we have each other, right?”

Brienne nodded. “Uh huh.”

Bran’s heart broke watching father and daughter together, trying to make sense out of a world that had already taken practically everything from them. It made him admire Brienne another tenfold more than he already did, to see what she had become in the face of loss, cruelty, doubt, and people who considered her worthless just because she was different.

He considered Jaime as well. He should hate Jaime with every fiber of his being and then some. Jaime had taken away his life within a matter of seconds, and in the name of love, no less. But then he remembered how Jaime had faced his own reckoning through the loss of his hand, his family, his pride. It had all made Jaime take a hard look at himself, and with the help of Brienne, it made him want to be the good man he had longed to be when he was young. Cersei had beaten him down and almost ruined him…and to some extent his father had as well.

_It just shows that everyone has their own demons and battles to overcome in the quest to be human._

And yet, in some strange roundabout way, the two of them had come together and given Bran the greatest gift of all…love in the form of their daughter.

Bran came back to himself and his eyes returned to their soft brown. He looked up at Meera and smiled.

“Well done, Bran,” she said happily. “You even did it without holding on to my hand, so you were completely on your own and you controlled it.”

“I still have a few loose ends, but it’s right there, I can feel it,” Bran replied, adjusting his blankets over his legs. He breathed out a sigh and smiled wide. Looking over Meera’s shoulder, his eyes went to the doors to his balcony, which were open.

“Joanna, my darling, come to me.”

Joanna, who had been out on the patio so Bran could concentrate, turned and came back into the room, closing the doors behind her. She walked over to the bed and sat next to Bran, drawing one of his hands between hers. She looked back and forth between him and Meera.

“How did it go?”

Bran smiled at her and squeezed her hand. “I can control it at last,” he said excitedly. “I still have some work to do, but I’m well on the way.”

Joanna’s eyes lit up and she smiled wide. “Oh, my love, that’s so wonderful. I’m so happy for you.” She brought his hand up to her lips and kissed it.

“Be happy for _us,_ my darling…you’re just as much a part of this as I am.”

Joanna blushed and looked down at their intertwined fingers. “Us,” she whispered, her eyes starting to tear up.

Bran stroked her hand. “I saw your parents…when they were both young,” he said quietly.

Joanna’s eyes moved back to his face and her eyebrows lifted. “Truly?”

Bran nodded. “I saw them at trying times during their childhoods,” he said sadly. He then turned to Meera. “Being able to visit different points in history…it’s given me a real sense of the hardships people go through. No one is immune to it. Made me rather humble to see everyone has their own trials to face in life. No one has an easy road.”

He looked back and forth between Meera and Joanna and continued.

“But there’s a few themes I keep seeing through all my visions and travels…regret, loss, forgiveness, and love. Those seem to stand out the most…and they all intertwine.”

He turned back to Joanna and brought her hand up to his mouth for a quick kiss.

“Darling, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I feel I have to say it.”

Joanna frowned. “Oh boy,” she shifted more to face him.

Bran smiled. “Seeing as it’s your twentieth nameday next week…try to find it in your heart to forgive your father.”

Joanna opened her mouth to respond but Bran stopped her.

“I know, my love, I know more than anyone how difficult that may be…I had to do it myself. But once I did, I felt free, and now I have no quarrel with Ser Jaime whatsoever, and he has served me well these past twenty years. And he is a good man at his core…he was warped and twisted by forces that were not of his making. In many ways, he was a victim as well.”

“But he had a choice,” Joanna said.

“Did he though?” Bran softened his tone. “You’re not wrong, love, but when you really look at it…did he? He had an overbearing father who basically threatened his children with either disinheritance, punishment, or other things a parent should never hold over their child’s head. He had Tyrion, who he was constantly defending against the rest of his family. And then there was his evil, manipulative, overbearing sister, who convinced him that he was nothing without her, and that no one could ever love him except her.”

Joanna looked down at their joined hands again. “I know,” she said quietly. “Uncle Tyrion explained everything in gruesome detail.”

“I’m not telling you what to do or how to feel,” Bran continued. “Just think on it. You don’t want to live the rest of your life in anger. Trust me…I know.”

Joanna sighed and slumped her shoulders in defeat.

“I love Papa, I promise you I do,” she confessed to him. “I’m just trying to digest all of the sudden revelations. I understand he had an unusual and tumultuous upbringing and the fact that you forgave him still astounds me somewhat, but I understand why you did.”

“Your father has changed so much, my love,” Bran added. “After my accident, he was greatly humbled through his own ordeals. Losing his sword hand completely ruined him, as well as the psychological damage his sister had done to him. Your mother really did save his soul.”

Joanna smiled. “That’s what Uncle Tyrion says, too.”

“And I’m sure your father would hate to spend your nameday without you,” Bran said gently. “He loves all of you so, so much.”

Joanna laughed this time. “How can you be so gracious towards him? He robbed you of your life.”

Bran shook his head. “He robbed me of my legs…but not my life. And in a way he gave me _back_ my life through you.”

Joanna felt her eyes sting with tears as she smiled at her betrothed.

“Forgiveness can be quite powerful, Bran is right,” Meera had joined in now. “I remember being so bitter and angry and sad over my brother’s death. But as time went by, I realized his sacrifice was for the betterment of the living…as without Jojen’s bravery, Bran wouldn’t be here, being a kind and sensible king.”

Joanna nodded sadly. “I’m sorry you lost him so cruelly.”

Meera sighed. “It took a long time for me to get past it, but once I did, I felt peace much like Bran did.”

Joanna looked down and nodded again. “I’ll talk to Brynna. She’ll help me do the right thing.”

“I believe she will,” Bran reassured her. “I want you to understand I’m not trying to force you to do something you’re not ready for…I’m only trying to give you my experience.”

“I know, my love,” Joanna stroked his hand again. “I promise I’ll think on it.” She suddenly brightened. “Speaking of which, Brynna is waiting for me in her music room. She’s with Deston until the guard switch and he relieves Podrick for the night.”

“Which should be happening any moment now,” Bran added, looking around Joanna towards the door to his chambers.

Meera stood up then. “In that case, I will take my leave. Good night, Bran, Joanna.”

“Wait, I’ll walk with you,” Joanna said.

Meera smiled. “As you wish, I will wait outside so that you may say goodnight,” she bowed and left the room.

Joanna turned back to Bran and leaned forward to kiss him softly. “I can’t wait for the day when I don’t have to leave you alone at night,” she whispered against his lips.

Bran smiled and chuckled softly. “All in good time, my love.” He kissed her again. “But truth be told, I can’t wait for it either.”

They laughed softly together and kissed for a few minutes longer before pulling apart.

“Goodnight, my darling,” Joanna sighed.

“Goodnight, my love.”

Joanna closed the door to Bran’s bedroom behind her and made her way through his sitting room to the outside hallway. Meera was waiting there and Deston came walking up at the same moment Joanna stepped outside.

“Well, good evening, Ser Deston, you have impeccable timing,” Joanna teased him.

Deston bowed to the assembled gathering. “Good evening, all. Ser Joanna, your sister awaits you in her music study. Ser Podrick, I am officially here to relieve you. Lady Meera…hello,” he flashed them his brightest grin.

“Hello, Ser Deston,” Meera smiled and laughed.

“I’m going to sleep for a sennight,” Podrick grumbled, stretching and cracking his joints.

Joanna sighed. “I’m so sorry I’ve been neglecting my duties. I plan to tell Mumma to put me back in the rotation. It’s not fair to the rest of you.”

“As long as you’re feeling better,” Deston said knowingly, giving her a look.

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” she put her hand on Deston’s arm in reassurance. She then turned to Meera. “I’ll see you to your rooms and then I’m off to collect my sister.”

“I’ll go with you,” Podrick said. “I could use a walk before retiring.”

“I’m just going to peek my head in and let His Grace know I’m here,” Deston added. “Good night all,” he bowed again like he always did.

“Good night, Ser,” Joanna and Podrick said in unison.

“Tell Brynna I love her,” Deston grinned wide.

Joanna rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you just told her when you left her.”

“Of course I did,” Deston looked mock-offended. “But tell her again anyway.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After depositing Meera back at her chamber, Joanna and Podrick continued on towards Brynna’s music sanctuary. Finding the door open, they simply strode in, catching Brynna in the middle of humming and playing a tune on her harp.

“Deston says he loves you…again,” Joanna teased her sister.

Brynna made a face and snorted. “Hello to you, too, dear sister. And hello, dear mostly-brother Podrick!” She flashed him a bright smile.

“Brynna,” Podrick walked over to kiss Brynna’s hand and then sat down at the table in the center of the room. Joanna sat on Brynna’s other side.

“Everything well with His Grace?” Brynna asked.

Joanna nodded. “He’s doing really well actually. He’s gaining really good mastery on his powers.”

“That’s wonderful,” Brynna replied. The room grew silent again save for the soft plucking of the harp.

“He told me I should forgive Papa before my nameday next week,” Joanna said softly, looking at her hands.

Brynna suddenly stopped playing and looked at her sister.

“How do you feel about that?”

“Deep down I know he’s right,” Joanna replied. “I just need a few days to get my head together.”

“I can help you talk to Papa if you want,” Brynna offered. “I can be there when you do.”

“Really?” Joanna brightened. “You’d do that?”

“Of course I would,” Brynna reached out and squeezed Joanna’s hand.

Joanna exhaled with relief. “Oh, thank you, I was hoping you’d say that.”

Brynna giggled. “It’s only Papa, Jo.”

“I know, I know, but still…it will help to have you there.”

“I know this is none of my business,” Podrick interjected. “But Ser Jaime is one of the best people I have ever known. I know his past is questionable at best, but he literally saved my and your mother’s life by equipping us and sending us off to find Sansa Stark. Cersei and her lackeys would have killed us otherwise.”

“Why would Aunt Cersei have wanted you dead, Pod?” Brynna asked.

“Before I was your mother’s squire, I was your Uncle Tyrion’s.”

“Ohhh,” both girls said in unison.

“She knew I was loyal to him,” Podrick continued. “So naturally I was a threat,” he chuckled. “So your father figured he’d kill two birds with one stone…he saved me from probable death and he made sure your mother wasn’t alone.”

Brynna smiled. “Uncle Tyrion did say Papa loves deeply.”

Podrick nodded. “He was right.” He then gestured at the harp in Brynna’s lap. “What are you working on?”

“Oh, nothing in particular,” she answered. “I was just killing time until Joanna came to fetch me,” she turned and gave her sister an overly-cheesy grin. Joanna rolled her eyes.

“Do you know ‘Jenny of Oldstones’?” Podrick asked.

Brynna scrunched up her face. “I’ve heard of it, I know the tune somewhat. It always struck me as very sad.”

“Some of the best songs are sad,” Podrick countered. “I sang that song for your parents, uncle, and a few others before the Long Night.”

“Really?” Joanna said.

Podrick grinned proudly and nodded. Then he decided to show them.

_High in the halls of the kings who are gone_  
_Jenny would dance with her ghosts_  
_The ones she had lost and the ones she had found_  
_And the ones who had loved her the most_

“Podrick, that’s lovely,” Brynna praised him, picking up her harp once again and beginning to pluck out the notes. “Keep going.”

Podrick merely smiled again and continued, this time with musical accompaniment.

_The ones who'd been gone for so very long_  
_She couldn't remember their names_  
_They spun her around on the damp old stones_  
_Spun away all her sorrow and pain_  
_And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave_  
_Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave_  
_They danced through the day_  
_And into the night, through the snow that swept through the hall_  
_From winter to summer then winter again_  
_'Til the walls did crumble and fall_  
_And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave_  
_Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave_

Brynna, who had an eidetic musical memory, had picked up the chorus and began to sing in harmony with Pod.

_And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave_  
_Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave…_

“Oh, Pod, that was beautiful,” Brynna sighed.

Joanna sat watching them with a dreamy look in her eyes, like she was somewhere far away.

“Jo? You alright?” Brynna asked.

Joanna suddenly remembered where she was. “Hmm? Oh, yes, I’m fine, I was just so caught up in your singing.” She looked at Podrick. “And _you!_ I didn’t realize you were that good.”

Podrick blushed and bowed his head. “Thank you, my lady.”

"You really sang that the eve of the Battle of Winterfell?" Joanna asked.

"I did...right after your father knighted your mother, actually," Podrick smiled, remembering the memory.

"I'll bet that was something to see," Brynna whispered, trying to conjure up the image.

"It was," Podrick replied. "It was your mother's lifelong dream. Your father gave her the whole world in that moment...before you all came along, that is," he chuckled. "It was like no one else was in the room...like it was just the two of them. I've never seen anything quite like it. Your father was absolutely dumbstruck," he laughed.

Brynna giggled. "Poor Papa, always at a loss whenever Mumma is around."

Joanna grew silent for a few moments and then spoke. "He really does love her, doesn't he?"

"He loves all of you," Podrick answered. "He'd lay down his life for any and every single one of you without even hesitating. I see it in his eyes every time he looks at your mother."

"Hmm," Joanna made the noise in her throat.

Podrick then yawned deeply. “And with that, I believe I am off to my bed and my wife. I have the next two days off duty and I intend to enjoy every moment of them.”

The girls chuckled.

“Thanks for visiting, Podrick,” Brynna said.

Podrick stood up. “Will you two be alright getting back to your chambers?”

“Actually, would you mind escorting Brynn back?” Joanna asked him. “I think I want to go see Mumma.”

Brynna looked somewhat surprised and Podrick simply smiled.

“I think your mother would absolutely love that,” Brienne’s former squire whispered.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nymeria arched her back and groaned loudly, gripping fistfuls of blanket as she fell back against the pillows. Every inch of her body tingled like it never had before and she was covered in a slightly sweaty glow. Breathing heavily, she laid her forearm across her eyes and chuckled.

“Sweet seven hells, Golden Boy, is there anything you _can’t_ do with that glorious mouth of yours?”

Galladon looked up from between Nymeria’s thighs and grinned at her.

“I’m sure there’s something we can find that I can’t do,” he said huskily.

Nymeria propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at him through her spread legs.

“Where did you learn how to do _that?”_ she panted, her heart rate slowing to normal.

Galladon blushed and languidly kissed the inside of her thigh.

“The book of course,” he purred.

_Gods, he is sexy._

Nymeria laid back down and closed her eyes.

“I need to meet your friends and thank them for giving you that book.”

Galladon began slowly kissing his way up her body, stopping to give her breasts proper attention along the way. Nymeria was already aroused again. Galladon was quickly learning how to drive her absolutely mad with his every touch, lick, and kiss.

When he reached her face, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him hungrily.

“You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you,” she whispered.

Galladon’s blue eyes shot wide with mock scandalization. “Tsk tsk, my sweet,” he teased her. “You know that’s not on the table.”

“You can have _me_ on a table if you—”

“Stop it!” Galladon collapsed next to her and sighed. “I am bent and determined on keeping my vow…to _both_ of us.” He shot her a side-eyed glance. “And you’re not making it easy by any means,” he smirked at her.

Nymeria rolled onto her side to face him and began running her fingers up and down his chest.

“It’s my job to keep you on your toes, Golden Boy,” she quipped, her hand slowly slinking its way down his stomach. Galladon was instantly hard.

He closed his eyes and laughed. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that, right?”

Nymeria gently cupped him, making Galladon gasp and purr just like his father. She then took him in her hand and began to gently stroke him.

“The least I can do is return the favor,” she whispered in his ear.

Nymeria had been sneaking into Galladon’s room in the dead of night for over a sennight now. They had been trading the book back and forth between them and then attempting to one-up each other with what they had learned. It had turned into a contest…one which neither one of them wished to lose.

Nymeria kissed and licked her way down Galladon’s torso, his breathing quickening as she did so. Finally reaching his nether-regions, she took him into her mouth, causing him to bite his bottom lip in an attempt to keep quiet.

Galladon reached above his head with both hands to grab onto the headboard of his bed. Tilting his head back and gritting his teeth, he lost himself in Nymeria’s ministrations. He couldn’t help groaning as she took him deep into her throat, his legs falling open of their own will. Nymeria continued to work on him until he was trembling and all of his muscles were taut.

Galladon’s breathing became heavy. “Nymeria…I…you’re going to want to…I’m about to…”

Nymeria slid him out of her mouth just in time for him to spill on his belly. Galladon gripped the headboard tightly and arched his back, groaning deeply as he spent. Nymeria continued to caress his cock as he twitched and spasmed, making his toes curl.

Galladon eventually let go of the headboard and sunk into the mattress, sated and covered in a thin sheen of sweat that glowed golden in the candlelight. Nymeria gently ran her fingertips up and down the inside of his thigh, making his skin break out in gooseflesh.

“By the gods, you are beautiful when you spill your seed, Golden Boy,” she cooed at him, relishing the feel of the soft blonde hairs on his thigh under her fingers.

Galladon chuckled softly. “I’m glad you think so.” He opened his arm and she slid into his embrace, her head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her softly on the top of her head. Reaching out his other arm for a cloth on the table next to his bed, he brought it over and began to clean off his stomach.

When he was done, Galladon laid back and closed his eyes, hugging Nymeria tightly to his side.

“You know, we should probably talk to our parents soon, so I can officially ask permission to court you,” he said.

“I think we’re way past that stage,” Nymeria snarked and laughed.

“Well, yes, but they don’t know that, and I’d prefer to keep it that way,” Galladon laughed along with her. “I don’t know whose parents would castrate me faster…yours or mine.”

“Definitely yours.”

“You’re probably right,” Galladon snorted. He then turned onto his side to face her. “How is it that your parents have no idea you sneak out every night? Have you forgotten your mother is a world-class assassin?”

Nymeria shrugged. “Even if she did know, I don’t think she’d say anything. She taught me to go after the things I want in life, not to sit around like some simpering girl. She went after my father, actually,” she smiled.

“Oh? She did?” Galladon waggled his eyebrows. "Saucy."

“Mmm hmm,” Nymeria actually looked smug. “The eve of the Battle of Winterfell, she seduced him…not that it took much persuading she said.”

“Wow, now I see where you get your bold streak from,” Galladon pinched her arse, making her squeal.

“Speaking of bold, I meant what I said, Golden Boy, I want to meet your friends,” Nymeria said. “Can we go?”

“What? Now?” Galladon exclaimed. “Nym, are you sure you want to go to a brothel? I mean, I shouldn’t have even been in a brothel to begin with. It’s Selwyn’s fault. Apparently, Uncle Tyrion took him there once and he’s been frequenting the place ever since.”

Nymeria moved her body half on top of him, running her fingers over his smooth chest.

“But it’s a good thing you ended up there…for both our sakes,” she leaned over to suck on his bottom lip.

Galladon groaned softly and dug his fingers into her flesh.

“Pleeeeease?” Nymeria purred as she moved to place kisses along his neck and up to his ear.

Galladon’s skin broke out in gooseflesh and he felt his cock beginning to stir again.

“Alright, alright,” he sighed in mock annoyance. “Get dressed.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joanna paced back and forth outside Brienne’s office, practicing what she wanted to say to her mother. They hadn’t spoken face to face since that fateful night, and Joanna found herself not knowing how to approach the situation.

She replayed that night over and over in her head. The hurtful words she had flung at her parents, Brienne striking her, the hurt and betrayal in Jaime’s eyes…Joanna shut her own eyes tightly, attempting to scrub the images from her head. She balled her hands into fists and took a deep breath.

“You can do this, you can do this, you can do this,” she whispered to herself. “It’s Mumma, it’s only Mumma…I’m so sorry Mumma, I shouldn’t have said those things.” She muttered quietly as she stood there, trying to practice her speech. She then began pacing again.

“I know Papa is a good man, but you have to understand, that was quite a lot of information to be hit with,” she continued whispering. “And Bran…”

_Gods, how do I explain Bran?_

She stopped moving again and took one more breath, pressing her palms against the Lord Commander’s office door.

_Here goes nothing…_

Joanna quietly pushed the door open and peeked her head around it. The room was lit with candles, giving it a peaceful, contemplative feeling. Brienne was sitting at her table thumbing through the White Book. Joanna watched her mother for a few moments. She looked ethereal in the dim light, her long graceful fingers turning the pages in the book. Joanna opened the door further and walked into the room.

“Mumma,” she said quietly, a lump suddenly in her throat.

Brienne looked up at looked at her daughter. It took a few seconds for her brain to register that it was really Joanna standing there. Then Brienne’s face melted into a teary smile.

“Oh, Bean…”

Everything Joanna had been practicing in the hallway flew right out of her mind as she ran towards her mother and launched herself into Brienne’s arms. Joanna immediately began sobbing against Brienne’s chest, the top of her head tucked under her mother’s chin.

“Oh, Mumma…Mumma, I’m sorry…I’m so sorry,” the tears fell freely and she shook in Brienne’s embrace.

“Shhhh, Bean, it’s alright, it’s alright,” Brienne was crying too. “I’m the one who’s sorry, my darling. I should never have struck you.”

“No, Mumma, I deserved it, I said such awful things to Papa…and you.” Joanna looked up into Brienne’s face. “It was too much, I didn’t know what to do.”

Brienne brought her hands up to cup Joanna’s face. “Shhh, I know, Bean, I know, it was very hard to hear horrible things about someone you love so much.” Brienne brushed loose strands of hair that had come loose from Joanna’s braid away from her daughter’s face.

“Please forgive me, I didn’t mean it,” Joanna continued sobbing, out of control now.

Brienne kissed her on the forehead and then on both cheeks. “It’s alright, Bean, calm down, shhh,” she pulled Joanna against her again and rubbed her back and the back of her head. “Shhh, it’s alright.”

Joanna’s tears finally began to subside, and she took in deep, shaking breaths against her mother.

“That’s it,” Brienne’s voice soothed her. “It’s alright, my darling.”

Joanna lifted her head again and Brienne gently wiped the tears from her daughter’s cheeks.

“Come sit down, Bean.”

Joanna followed Brienne back over to the table and sat in a chair next to her. Brienne reached out and took one of Joanna’s hands in hers, and continued to gently attempt to fix Joanna’s flyaway hairs with the other.

“It was just all so much,” Joanna repeated, feeling like a little girl again as Brienne mothered her. “When all of that came spilling out…I felt like I was drowning, and I couldn’t breathe.”

“I know, Bean,” Brienne said. “Your father tried so hard to bury his past where it belongs…in the past. He’s not that person anymore.”

“I know, Mumma, please believe me, I do. He’s always been a loving father and husband. I should have listened to him rather than berate him.”

“Don’t waste energy on what could have been done differently,” Brienne stroked Joanna’s cheek now. “All you can do now is move forward. Your father holds you no ill-will. He’s been absolutely devastated over this.”

New tears formed in Joanna’s eyes. “I broke Papa’s heart,” she started to cry again.

“Oh, Bean, it’s nothing that can’t be mended. He loves you no matter what.”

Joanna nodded. “I know, and I love him…no matter what.”

Brienne smiled at her. “He’ll love to hear that.”

“I’ll talk to him soon. I just need to get my head together first.”

“It’s alright, Bean, take your time, no one is rushing you,” Brienne went back to brushing through Joanna’s hair with her fingers.

“There’s another reason I got so upset that night,” Joanna began.

“Bran?” Brienne smiled. Joanna’s green eyes widened as she looked at her mother.

“How did you…?”

“He told me. He loves you very much.”

“He...told you?” Joanna whispered. “I…how does…what do you think about it?”

Brienne sat back and took a breath. “I think…that if you love him deep in your heart, and he loves you as much as he seems to…that you have your answer, and your father and I will support you in whatever decisions you make.”

Joanna broke into a teary grin. “Really? Oh, Mumma, I do love him, so much.”

Brienne laughed. “You two always had some sort of inexplicable bond, even when I carried you.”

“I know,” Joanna nodded. “I can’t explain it either, but it’s there, and it’s strong…so strong.”

“I think it’s wonderful,” Brienne replied. “Bran is a good man, and a good and kind king…and he has loved you since before you were even born. He will treat you well, and you have my blessing…as long as you decide it’s the life _you_ want. You’d be queen, you realize, and there are other matters to think on as well.”

“Oh, Mumma,” Joanna lurched forward and hugged her mother again. “It is what I want. I couldn’t care a lick about the queen part, I just know I love him. He is gentle, kind, and wants to love and be loved. I hope Papa approves.”

“Bean, if it’s what makes you happy, he’ll approve.”

Joanna sat back again. “Can you tell him I’ll speak to him soon? Before my nameday, I promise. I can’t imagine spending it without him.”

Brienne smiled. “Of course I will, my darling.” She then stood up and held out her hand. “Come on, it’s late, let’s go home.”

Joanna stood up and wrapped both of her arms around Brienne’s right arm and put her head on her shoulder. They walked all the way back to the family suites that way…the hallway they jokingly called “Lannister Row”. Upon reaching Joanna and Brynna’s room, Joanna and Brienne embraced again, with Brienne kissing her daughter on the forehead once more.

“You’ve made me so happy tonight, Bean.”

“Me too, Mumma, I love you.”

“And I love you, I’ll tell your father that you’ll speak soon.”

Joanna nodded and smiled and hugged Brienne once more. “Good night, Mumma.”

“Good night, Bean.”

Joanna suddenly turned back. "Oh, Mumma, before I forget...you can put me back into the kingsguard rotation...and thank you for giving me the time off."

Brienne merely smiled and nodded. "Of course, Bean."

Joanna slipped inside her suite and shut the door behind her. Standing in the common living area for a few moments, she contemplated waking Brynna to tell her how it went, but she was so drained that all she wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep. She would fill Brynna in on everything in the morning.

Going to her bedroom and closing the door, she got undressed and into her nightshirt. Now that the adrenaline had worn off and she had cried herself out, she realized just how exhausted she was.

Moving to blow out the candle on her nightstand before climbing into bed, Joanna suddenly stopped, noticing for the first time since she entered the room that she wasn’t alone. Arthur was curled up in the center of her large bed, his mop of white-blonde curls spread out across the pillow. His even breathing told Joanna that he was soundly asleep.

Joanna smiled and put her hand up to her chest. Blowing out the candle, she got into bed and slid over to her littlest brother. Gathering him into her arms, she nestled her face into the top of his hair. The movement woke him.

“Mumma told me you were sad,” Arthur whispered groggily. “I told her I would fix it.” He immediately fell asleep again.

Joanna kissed the top of his head and hugged him closer. “You were right, sweetling. I feel better already.”


	22. Moving Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galladon introduces Nymeria to his friends, Tyrion and Sansa ponder their future, and Jaime and Bran have a heart-to-heart.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Nymeria looked up and down the quiet street dubiously. “It doesn’t really seem like the kind of place that would have a brothel.”

“It’s the right place, trust me,” Galladon replied. “It’s…classy…I guess, if such a thing can be.” He shrugged.

Nymeria chuckled and looked up at him, linking her arm through his. “After you,” she gestured at the door.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Galladon laughed quietly, reaching for the door handle. “Alright, here we go. And remember, this was _your_ idea.”

"Yeah, yeah, just open the door."

They went inside and Galladon was immediately hit with the usual overly-perfumed scent of the place. He felt Nymeria flinch next to him, her grey eyes going wide.

“Wow…that’s…a powerful smell,” she noted.

“You get used to it after a while,” Galladon remarked. He scanned the main room, looking for any one of his acquaintances. When he didn’t see any of them, he started to inwardly panic. Looking around in all directions, Galladon flinched when he suddenly found himself face to face with the Madam again.

“Well, well, if it isn’t our resident conversationalist,” she smirked at him. Galladon blushed and inclined his head.

“Uh, good evening, my lady.”

The Madam smiled and shook her head, still not used to being treated so courteously in her own establishment.

“And I see you brought someone other than your brother this time,” the Madam gestured at Nymeria next to him, her arm still linked through his. Nymeria immediately stepped forward.

“Are you the one I have to thank for giving Golden Boy here that wonderful book?” She asked enthusiastically, her eyes wide.

Galladon practically choked. The Madam’s eyebrows came together in confusion.

“Book?”

“No, no, that was me,” Tana had suddenly appeared on Galladon’s other side and linked her arm through his in a move imitating Nymeria. Galladon heaved a sigh of relief.

“Oh, Tana, thank goodness,” he reached into his belt pouch and pulled out the usual three gold dragons. Handing them to the Madam he smiled shyly and bowed his head again.

“By the gods, boy, I will never understand you,” the Madam said, smiling as she turned and walked away. Tana grew excited.

“So? Is this the lady love?”

Galladon blushed and smiled again. “Yes, this is my Nymeria. Nym, this is Tana, she’s the one who gave me the book.”

Nymeria launched herself into Tana’s arms, embracing her tightly.

“Thank you. Thank you _so_ much.”

Tana giggled, standing back to look at the pair of them. “Getting a lot of use out of it, are we? I told you you’d learn a lot.”

Galladon merely turned a deeper shade of red, while Nymeria winked conspiratorially at Tana.

“Galladon! Hello love!” It was Feresa, who had snuck up behind him, giving him a pat on his backside.

He jumped and turned around, smiling when he realized it was her. “Hello, Feresa, I’d like you to meet Nymeria.”

Feresa looked Nymeria up and down. “My goodness, you weren’t kidding when you said she was a beauty.”

Now it was Nymeria’s turn to blush. “I insisted he bring me here so I could meet you all and thank you properly for the…ah…_advice_ you’ve been giving him.”

Feresa looked up at Galladon and raised an eyebrow. “What happened to you not dishonoring her before marriage?”

Galladon put up his hands. “Oh, no, no, that still stands.”

Nymeria nodded and smirked. “I’ll vouch for that,” she slid an arm around Galladon’s waist. “No matter how much I try to persuade him, Golden Boy here is very honorable.”

Tana and Feresa both snickered at that before Tana gestured at their usual seats on the plush maroon couches. They all moved to sit in their corner so they could talk. Galladon sat in his usual spot, with Nymeria sitting beside him, bending her legs underneath her and leaning into his side. Tana sat on Galladon’s other side, while Feresa sat in front of them on the low table. She sat forward and rested her forearms on her thighs.

“So, Nymeria, how do you feel knowing you snatched the most wanted man in all of King’s Landing out from under all those ladies’ noses,” she cackled.

Nymeria wrapped her arms around her love and smirked. “Well, someone had to protect his virtue.”

Galladon shot her a murderous look.

“Oh, Galladon, you blush more than any maiden I’ve ever seen,” Tana teased him, wrapping both of her arms around his left one, which only made him blush even more.

Nymeria leaned across Galladon’s body to conspire with Tana. “I know, isn’t it adorable? It’s one of the things I love most about him, he’s so easy to—”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Galladon rolled his eyes and gave an embarrassed laugh.

There was suddenly a loud squeal from across the room, and they all started and looked up to see Anari picking her way through the couples scattered all around.

“Galladon!” She flung arms around him and kissed him loudly on the cheek before moving to sit next to Feresa on the table. She then looked immediately at Nymeria.

“My, my…judging by the way this one is attached to you, this must be the one you came in here mooning over last time.”

Nymeria let out a bark of a laugh. Galladon shook his head and smiled.

“Yes, Anari, this is Nymeria.”

“Anari,” Nymeria repeated. “Which one are you? Golden Boy here has told me a bit about each of you but I’m trying to remember who is who.”

“I’m the healer,” Anari answered. “Oh, by the way, Galladon, that salve you brought me works wonders.”

“I know my father swears by it, so it must be good,” he replied.

Tana suddenly sat up. “I just remembered, I made some sweet rolls earlier using some of the spices you gave me. Want to try them?”

Nymeria lurched forward, startling Galladon in the process. “Oh yes, please! And I assume that makes you the cook.”

Tana reached out to poke Nymeria on the end of her nose. “Quite right, dear. I’ll be right back.” She leapt off the couch to go to the kitchen.

Nymeria then turned to Feresa. “Which would make you the seamstress?”

Feresa bowed her head and spread her hands out to her sides. “Guilty. In fact, I made this dress out of the fabric your handsome man brought to me,” she gestured at the garment she was wearing, made from the crimson velvet. Nymeria reached out to touch one of the sleeves.

“This is beautiful work,” she whispered, noting the fine stitching and the gold trimming she had fastened around the edges. “Hey Gall, this looks like the coats you all wore to the feast.”

Galladon nodded. “It does, yes, outstanding work, Feresa.”

“Thank you,” Feresa smiled at them. “I was also able to make a few garments for my children as well.”

Galladon seemed especially proud of that.

Tana suddenly reappeared and placed a small basket of the sweet rolls in his lap and retook her seat on the sofa. Nymeria immediately began to pick through the basket.

“Oh my, they smell heavenly,” she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She held one up to Galladon’s nose. “Doesn’t this smell heavenly?”

Galladon chuckled and took a sniff of the roll. “Yes, sweetling, it does indeed.” He held her hand steady and took a bite. Closing his eyes and savoring the taste, he groaned rather non-innocently, eliciting amused stares from the women around him.

“Seven hells, Tana, this is incredible,” he finally said. Nymeria took a bite next and had much the same reaction as Galladon had.

“Forget him, Tana, I’m marrying you,” she said, quickly taking another bite.

Tana laughed. “I’d take you both.”

Galladon choked at that and coughed a little. Tana clapped him on the back.

“Relax, little fawn, I wouldn’t think of soiling your virtue.”

Galladon blushed and chuckled nervously. “Thank you, Tana.”

They all sat and talked for another couple of hours before Nymeria and Galladon made their way back to the Red Keep. Sneaking back into Galladon’s room, they laid down on the bed facing each other, Galladon reaching out to stroke Nymeria’s hand.

“So, was it worth it? What did you think?”

“I think I love each one of them,” Nymeria smiled. “So kind and so full of life, even with the line of work they’re in.” Her face suddenly grew thoughtful. “It makes me wish they had a better life.”

Galladon’s brows came together and his forehead creased just like his mother’s did when she was figuring out a problem.

“Do you think they’re unhappy?”

“No, not that I can tell, but I can tell they want more out of life,” Nymeria sat up, still holding Galladon’s hand. “Tana’s talents are being wasted…she should be cooking for a household, or even here at the Keep. Feresa makes lovely garments. She should have her own shop.”

“Anari wants to be a maester,” Galladon added. Nymeria gestured at him.

“See! They all have different callings, I’m convinced of it.” She then leaned down to rub her nose against his, her voice lowering. “And one thing is certain…they all love you…like you’re their pet.” She smiled before kissing him.

Galladon laughed against her lips. “They are very kind to me, yes. I do wish I could do more for them.”

“Don’t worry, Golden Boy,” Nymeria kissed him again. “If things work out the way we want them to…I’m already thinking of a plan to help all of them.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tyrion and Sansa sat on Tyrion’s balcony, overlooking the city, a bottle of wine between them on the small table. It was a quiet evening, and the breeze was cool off Blackwater Bay. The torches were lit all across the city, and somewhere in the adjoining tower, Brienne was sitting on her own patio, taking in her favorite view while waiting for Jaime to return from a very important conversation.

Tyrion stroked Sansa’s hand where it rested in his. Sansa turned her head and gave him a small, content smile, the night breeze stirring her hair slightly.

“So, when do you go back to Winterfell?” Tyrion asked quietly. Sansa looked back out over the city.

“Within the next sennight. Meera is going to travel back with me before she continues on to Greywater Watch.”

“Good, I’m glad you won’t be alone on your journey.”

“Don’t worry, good husband,” Sansa gave him a side-eyed glance of sarcastic amusement. “I have my retinue with me, I will be quite safe.”

Tyrion let out a laugh at the mention of him still being her husband, even though they had never consummated their marriage and she had been sold off to Ramsay Bolton in the interim. Even after all of the trauma and the chaos, and especially after the Long Night, they still considered themselves bound to each other in some strange way.

“It’s been so nice having you here for the past two moons,” Tyrion mused. “I shall be morose when you depart again.” He pouted for full effect.

Sansa laughed. “Fear not, we will continue our correspondence as always.”

Tyrion leaned his head back, looked at the stars and sighed. “I know, but you and I both know it’s not the same as being around each other.”

Sansa became serious. “I know, but we both have duties apart from each other for now,” she squeezed his hand. “Our time will come, I promise.” She looked out over the bay. “I’m just sorry I can’t be the normal wife you deserve. I can’t give you heirs, nor do I wish to. I don’t even know if I will be able to bed you, as I have not desired anything of the sort since Ramsay.”

Tyrion squeezed her hand in return. “I understand, sweetling, and I may have been a drunken whoremonger in my younger days, but I make you this promise…that I will be as much or as little of a companion, lover, husband, or friend that you need. I am at a point in my life where I realize that I love you, and that I don’t want to spend my days alone, no matter how that time may be spent.”

Sansa smiled at him again. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I know that I want to be with you, too, no matter what form that takes,” she shifted in her chair to face him. “You have always been kind to me, something that not many others have been. Our relationship may evolve over time and once we’re together every day…we’ll take it as it comes.”

Tyrion cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’m not sure how the Northern houses will take to you married to a Southron…and a Lannister, no less. Jaime and I weren’t exactly welcomed with open arms the last time we were there.”

“Because I wish it,” Sansa declared. “They will heed my word and they will see that I love and trust you. You and Jaime did fight in the Long Night and defended Winterfell after all. They will accept it or they can go elsewhere. Besides, everyone seems to have accepted Jaime and forgiven his past crimes, why should they not do the same with you?”

Tyrion slapped his thigh with his other hand. “Quite right, we make our own path.” He took another swig of wine. “And I wouldn’t worry about heirs…my brother and Brienne have provided enough heirs for every region in Westeros.”

Sansa let out a loud laugh at that. “Indeed…I don’t know how they keep track of them all.”

“It’s quite the challenge, believe me, and I’m only their uncle.” Tyrion raised his eyebrows and took a sip of his wine. “And what of your sister and Lord Baratheon? Is Nymeria to be an only child?”

Sansa nodded. “I believe so. If I’m honest, I’m surprised Arya agreed to any children at all, but she seems to have taken to motherhood quite well. I suppose it shows people can still surprise you.”

“Quite right,” Tyrion mused.

“I must admit I worry about who will rule Winterfell once my time has passed,” Sansa added. “Nymeria will inherit Storm’s End, unless she marries another Lord of another house, in which case one of her offspring will inherit Storm’s End. Maybe she’ll have a few and I can persuade her to let me have a spare for the North.”

“There’s plenty of time to figure that out,” Tyrion tried to soothe her.

Sansa nodded. “If not there’s always one of your brother’s and Brienne’s I could steal.”

They shared another laugh and another sip of wine. Sansa suddenly grew thoughtful.

“It’s so insane how far we’ve all come. I mean look at me, sitting here laughing and spending the past two moons with Lannisters, whom I’ve grown to love of all things.”

“Are we really all _that_ bad?” Tyrion japed.

“You were, yes! You had half of my family slaughtered. I realize you and Jaime had nothing to do with that, but unfortunately in this world, you are your name, whether you like it or not. I know this will hurt for you to hear, but the ones who were instrumental in killing my family are now all dead themselves…so what did they really gain?”

“Very true,” Tyrion agreed. “And it may surprise you to learn that I am glad they are dead. Each one of them deserved what they got. Even I had a direct hand in one of those deaths.”

“One of the reasons I admire you,” Sansa said quietly. “In some way I felt you were avenging me.”

“Part of me was,” Tyrion reached for her hand again. “The other part was avenging myself.”

“That was the difference between you and me…I actually _loved_ my family.”

Tyrion let out a loud laugh. “Funny how that works out, isn’t it?”

“At least I still have Arya and Bran. We all talk via raven as much as you and I.”

“I’m glad for that,” Tyrion shifted in his chair. “It’s funny how we’ve sort of made our own new family. You, me, Arya, Gendry, Bran, Brienne, Jaime, the children, which includes Nymeria.”

Sansa nodded, as if looking at something far away. “Brienne will always be some sort of guardian figure to Arya and me, and in turn her children call us both _auntie.”_ She smiled at that. “Now Nymeria and Galladon seem to be making some connection as well.”

“That’s not the only one,” Tyrion muttered. Sansa turned to look at him.

“What do you mean?”

Tyrion help up a hand. “I’m sworn to secrecy, but have no fear, I believe it’s all going to be out in the open before you once again depart for Winterfell.”

“Oh no, no…you can’t do that. You can’t drop that nugget and then not tell me.”

Tyrion laughed. “Let’s just say that you may be more right than you know. If all goes well…our families may be permanently joined beyond just you and me.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m sorry to come to you so late, Your Grace,” Jaime said, standing in front of Bran in his private meeting chamber.

“Of course, Ser Jaime, please sit,” Bran gestured at a chair near him. “I always have time for my small council members.”

Jaime moved to sit and then sat looking at his hand “Well, I hope now you’ll make time for me as a father of a daughter,” he said softly, gently smiling.

Bran smiled back. “Of course…I’m sure you have many questions,” he answered just as quietly.

Jaime looked up to find Bran giving him his full attention. He noted the King’s eyes were soft in the dim candlelight.

_He really does love her._

“Brienne has told me that you make Joanna very happy, and that you love her very much.”

Bran smiled and nodded slightly. “I do love her, and she makes me just as happy as I hope I make her.”

Jaime smiled wistfully, not entirely comfortable speaking with someone about one of his children this way. He had nothing against Bran…he had something against his children growing up.

“Brienne also mentioned that you and Joanna have had some sort of bond since before she was born,” Jaime continued.

It was Bran’s turn to look at his hands. He smiled to himself, as if remembering something. “I can’t explain it, but yes, it’s true,” he looked back up at Jaime. “And there’s something I need you to know…as her father.”

Jaime bristled a little at that, almost expecting something uncomfortable. But this was Bran, and Bran wouldn’t bring harm to his little girl. He forced himself to relax.

“I’ve said this to Ser Brienne, and I need you to hear it from my lips as well. I vow to you, as I sit here before you, that I never once interfered with Joanna’s life, decisions, feelings…nothing. I had visions of her and our future, yes, but I let events happen as they would, and not by any manipulation.”

Jaime sat quietly, digesting what Bran had just admitted. After a moment, Jaime nodded. “I know, I believe you. Brienne told me the same. I know you’re not malicious, even after all that’s happened,” he looked down again, ashamed. He was then startled when he felt Bran reach out and place a gentle hand on his forearm just above his stump.

“I have no quarrel with you, Ser Jaime. Not anymore. Not in over twenty years, in fact. You have served me well, both in Winterfell and here in King’s Landing for those twenty years, and I couldn’t be happier to call you an ally and a friend.”

Jaime felt his eyes growing misty at Bran’s declaration. A few tears broke free and rolled slowly down his cheeks.

_How can he just forgive me like this? How can he simply be at peace with what I did to him?_

“But, I took your life from you,” he whispered, a sudden lump in his throat. “And what’s worse is I did it for a lie, and for something that would come to mean nothing in the end anyway.”

Bran gently squeezed Jaime’s arm. “I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Joanna. You may have robbed me of my legs, but not my life. And now, you’ve given me back my hope and my love through her. You and Brienne came together and created this wonderful being who has touched my heart more than I ever thought someone could.”

Jaime let out a sob and reached out to gather Bran into his arms, propriety be damned. He fisted his hand in the back of Bran’s hair and held him tightly against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I am so, so sorry for what I did to you. You have no idea how many nights I’ve laid awake just thinking about how I wronged you…the one debt that I, as a Lannister, could never repay.”

Bran put his arms around Jaime in return, his own eyes wet. “But don’t you see? You _have_ repaid it, through Joanna. You may think you have taken my life, but in reality, you gave me a reason to live. And a rather good one, at that,” he chuckled softly.

Jaime smiled at that, but continued to weep. He needed this, he needed to let the years of pent up guilt and shame out once and for all. Not many people had the chance to make amends with those they had wronged in their lives. Jaime was not about to let that advantage slip away. Especially if he was going to call this man his goodson at some point. Jaime sat back and took Bran’s face in his hand and his stump.

“If I could, I would go back and bring your entire family back to you. Your father, mother, Robb and Rickon. They all died needlessly, and I wish I could have stopped it. I admired your father for his honor…he was a good man.”

“None of it was your doing,” Bran replied. “And honestly there was nothing you could have done to stop it. You were Ser Brienne’s prisoner when my mother and Robb were slaughtered. Your sister and Joffrey were never going to let my father live. Rickon could have been saved, perhaps, but Jon and Sansa at least avenged him.”

“I always seemed to be in the wrong place when it mattered,” Jaime said, brushing Bran’s hair away from his forehead like he would do to Arthur.

“Or perhaps you were where you were meant to be throughout the war…safely away from here, your life intersecting with Ser Brienne’s when it needed to…to keep you both at the forefront of each other’s minds so that you could find your way back to each other.”

Jaime let out a soft snicker. “Well, I’ll be honest, I thought about her all the time no matter where I was.”

Bran smiled and nodded. “See?”

“I can’t imagine life without her, or my children, or my brother, you, your sisters.”

“And none of us could imagine life without you,” Bran said.

Jaime took a deep breath and looked Bran in the eyes again. When he spoke, it was in an emotional whisper, tears falling again.

“Brandon Stark…it would be my honor, as I sit here before you, to give you and my Joanna my blessing to marry. Be good to her, I beg you, as I know she will be good to you. You have given me no reason to doubt you, so I give this blessing freely and without hesitation.”

Bran smirked and looked sheepish.

_Is he actually blushing?_

“Well, to be forthcoming, Ser Jaime,” Bran said mischievously, “She’s already asked me.”

Jaime’s eyes went wide and he sat back, stunned. “She…?” After a few moments he laughed. “She has her mother’s nerve and stubborn streak I suppose,” he gave Bran his trademark smirk. “It seems I will have to speak to my daughter about propriety.”

They both laughed together until Jaime suddenly drew his brows together in confusion.

“I certainly hope you said yes.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brienne smiled and closed her eyes when she suddenly felt Jaime’s arms envelop her as she sat in her chair on the patio. Leaning her head back into his nuzzling of her hair she turned to rub her cheek against his nose…like two lions greeting each other.

“How did it go?” She quietly asked him.

Jaime gave her a few slow kisses on her cheek and neck before answering. Brienne hummed contentedly before Jaime walked to pull up another chair beside her, sat down, and spread a blanket over them. He then put his arm around his wife and pulled her close, settling her head on his shoulder and his stump on her thigh.

“It went very well,” he sighed happily. “I am in awe every day at Bran’s kindness and willingness to forgive.”

“He just wants to love and be loved,” Brienne answered, looking up at him and kissing him under his chin. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

Jaime chuckled and kissed Brienne’s forehead. “Yes, but you’ve seen to that for the past twenty years.”

“Quite happily, too.”

“Would you believe that Bean actually asked _Bran_ to marry _her?”_

Brienne’s head came up and she looked at Jaime with wide eyes.

“She _what?”_ Brienne said, laughing.

“Mmm hmm,” Jaime nodded. “Seems your daughter is very headstrong.”

Brienne poked him in the ribs. “Oh, so now she’s _my_ daughter?”

Jaime squirmed and laughed as Brienne continued to pinch and prod him. She finally stopped and reached up to cup his cheek. Moving close to him and looking into his eyes, she stroked his beard with her thumb.

“Are you sure you’re alright with this?”

Jaime’s eyes softened as they always did when he looked at her. He smiled and turned to kiss her palm.

“If Bean is happy, and Bran will treat her well, which I think he will…then yes, I’m perfectly fine with it.” His eyes grew sad as he thought about Joanna and the fact that they still hadn’t spoken. “We may be estranged, but I love her with all that I am, and I want what’s best for her and whatever makes her happy.”

Brienne smiled and kissed him softly. “She came to see me earlier, at long last.” Brienne broke out into a teary grin, much like the one she had the night Jaime knighted her.

Jaime’s eyebrows shot up and then his face melted into a grin as well. “Really?” He sat up straight and put his hand on Brienne’s where it rested on his face. His eyes immediately became wet. “What happened? What did she say?”

Brienne stroked his beard again. “She says she loves you very much, and that she will speak to you soon, she just wants to get her head straight.”

Jaime let out a happy sob. “Oh, Bree, truly?” His breath came out like he had been holding it since their argument and he felt like he dropped about twenty stone off his chest. He looked up at the stars and smiled wide. “Thank the gods.”

“She feels awful about the things she said,” Brienne continued. “She thinks she broke your heart.”

“Well, to be honest, she did,” Jaime whispered, rubbing his nose against Brienne’s. “But with this news, it is well on its way to being mended again.” He sighed happily. “Thank you, my love.”

Brienne brushed Jaime’s hair back and kissed him on the forehead. “Now, let your mind rest, everything is going to be alright.”

Jaime let loose another bright grin and then moved to kiss her deeply. His mood completely lightened and he felt like he was floating. He wove his fingers into Brienne’s hair and wrapped his right arm around her and pulled her closer.

“How is it…” _kiss._ “That after twenty years…” _another kiss._ “That I still can’t be around you and _not_ be touching you?”

Brienne grinned against his lips and gently nipped him, making him groan.

“You just have good taste, I surmise.”

“Oh, yes, that must be it,” Jaime mumbled as he kissed his way to her neck. At that moment, thunder rumbled out over the bay. Brienne turned her head to look as Jaime nipped and sucked on her earlobe.

“It’s going to be a rainy night, we better get your salve and see to your arm and leg.”

“Mmm, my favorite kind of night,” Jaime said, now nuzzling behind her ear, his stump wandering down her thigh to between her legs. Brienne squeaked.

“Come on, old man, let’s go inside and get you ready for bed.”

Thunder rumbled again and the wind began to pick up. Jaime stopped kissing Brienne and looked out over the bay.

“Probably a good idea to get off the patio, yes,” he said, standing up and taking her hand, pulling her back into their chambers. Brienne laughed as she let him tug her along. Once safely back inside, Jaime pulled her into his arms and resumed his seduction.

Brienne’s arms went around his shoulders and she kissed him back. The wind blew the curtains around the windows that they always liked to leave open during a storm.

Jaime hummed quietly into her mouth as his hand made its way slowly down to her backside, pressing Brienne’s hips into his own.

“Let me put your salve on before you get too carried away,” she teased him. She gently pushed him back and started to walk towards the cabinet where they kept their various herbs and ointments. “Get those clothes off.”

“Yes, Ser,” Jaime said excitedly and began shrugging off his coat and his boots. Brienne came over to aid him with his shirt and his breeches and soon he was sitting naked on the side of the bed, with Brienne sitting next to him where she began to rub the strong-smelling salve into his right forearm.

With his left hand, Jaime began tugging on the buckles of her leather coat and then the laces of her tunic. Brienne giggled.

“Hold your horses, we’ll get there.”

“If I’m naked, you have to be naked too,” Jaime snipped. “It’s the rules.”

“Yes, love, I know, I’ll get there.”

When Jaime didn’t cease pawing at her, Brienne huffed and stood up, quickly shedding her clothing and sitting back down again, as naked as her husband.

“There, is that better?” She smirked at him.

“Much,” Jaime managed to say before he leaned in to start kissing her neck again and running his left hand up her side. Brienne continued to see to his right arm.

When she was finished, she reached down and pulled his left leg into her lap, whereupon she began working the salve into his thigh and calf. Jaime groaned happily into her neck. The thunder outside was getting closer and the rain had started to fall.

Brienne replaced the lid on the container of salve, and simply placed it on the nightstand next to Jaime’s side of the bed rather than return it to the cabinet. With her hands free, she wiped them off on a cloth which also sat near the bed.

“Make sure you don’t wipe that on your cock later,” Brienne said. “It will burn.”

Jaime mumbled something incoherent as he pushed her back onto the bed. They got under the sheets and laid on their sides facing each other. Jaime immediately stuck his face between Brienne’s neck and the pillow like he did every night, pressing his body up against her and reaching over to hitch her leg over his thigh.

Brienne began running her fingers through his hair the way he loved, causing Jaime to growl into the crook of her neck and move himself partially on top of her, pulling her leg higher over his hip and sliding his cock into her.

Brienne gasped. “Impatient tonight, are we, love?”

Jaime moved his mouth to whisper in her ear. “With you? Always.”

Brienne wrapped her leg more tightly around him as Jaime gently moved in and out of her.

“I’m glad you’re happier now,” she soothed him.

Jaime brought his head up to lazily kiss her as he thrust. “I am, yes, and do you realize the first of our children will be getting married soon?”

Brienne smiled and cupped his face. “I know, it seems just yesterday we were changing her dirty cloths.”

“I’m glad she’s getting to marry for love…like we did,” Jaime murmured, kissing her again. Brienne sighed wistfully.

“I am too…I hope they all get to do the same.”

“We’ll make sure of it.”


	23. Nameday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Joanna's nameday! Quite a lot is happening this day. Jaime and Joanna mend fences, Bran announces their engagement, Galladon and Nymeria ask formal permission to court.

Brynna slowly opened her bedroom door and peeked out into the common area she shared with Joanna. It was still early, and the room was quiet. Smiling and biting her bottom lip in mischief, she tiptoed across the floor to Joanna’s room, stopping to press her ear against the door to hear if her sister was awake.

When she was met with more silence she smiled again, and reached down to slowly open Joanna’s door. Brynna quietly entered and made her way over to Joanna’s sleeping form. She smiled down at her sister…so peaceful, and so totally unaware of what was about to happen.

Brynna leapt onto the bed and sprawled herself across her sister, wrapping her arms around her and hugging her tightly.

“Happy Nameday!” Brynna squealed, laughing and kissing Joanna loudly on the cheek.

Joanna immediately sprang awake, her body defensively flailing under Brynna’s grip, not quite sure what was going on. As soon as she felt her sister’s kiss and her long blonde curls fall over her face, she began to relax.

“Bloody hell, Brynn!” Joanna exclaimed. “You scared me half to death!”

Brynna merely kept giggling and kissed Joanna again.

“Twenty years old! How do you feel?”

Joanna groaned and rubbed her eyes. “Exactly the same as I felt yesterday,” she turned her head to scowl at Brynna. “Except with a much faster heartbeat.”

Brynna sat up and slapped Joanna’s thigh. “Well, you better get yourself together, we’re going to see Papa before we celebrate later.”

Joanna closed her eyes and sighed. “I know, I know, I’ve just been dreading it.”

“Why? It’s only Papa, like I’ve said.”

Joanna looked at Brynna. “I know, I’m just nervous,” she rolled over onto her side to face her sister. “I know I’ve said it countless times, but I said some really horrible things to him.”

Brynna laid down facing Joanna and took her hand. “You said Mumma said everything would be just fine.”

Joanna let out a loud sigh. “I know, I know.” After a few moments she sat up. “Alright let’s get ourselves together and do this before I lose my nerve.”

Brynna kissed and hugged Joanna again and then ran off back to her bedroom to wash and dress.

About a half hour later, they found themselves arriving at Brienne and Jaime’s chambers, only to find Arianne and Alysanne waiting outside the door.

“Well, good morning sweetlings,” Brynna greeted their younger sisters. “What are you two doing skulking around?”

“Waiting for Mumma,” Arianne answered. “Happy nameday, Jo!” She embraced her eldest sibling.

“Thank you, darling,” Joanna kissed Arianne on the head.

“I have a jousting lesson, and Mumma always wants to make sure she’s there,” Alysanne followed up, also moving to embrace Joanna. “Happy nameday, sister.”

Brynna stepped forward and put an arm around Alysanne. “She’s quite right, after what happened to you before.”

Alysanne rolled her eyes. “I’m _fine.”_

“Yes, darling, we know,” Joanna teased her. “But you know how Mumma is.”

“And what are you reading this sennight?” Brynna asked Arianne, pointing to the book tucked under her younger sister’s arm.

“Oh,” Arianne looked down and pulled the book out. “Ancient customs and traditions of the cities of Essos,” she replied. “Mumma and Papa said I could go with Selwyn and Ser Davos on their next trip across the Narrow Sea, so I’m brushing up on the local customs.” She beamed a bright smile. “I’m so excited I finally get to go there.”

Alysanne immediately started pouting. “What am I supposed to do here without you while you’re gone?” She and her twin were rarely, if ever, separated. Arianne gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Don’t be sad, Aly, I’ll bring you loads of treasures from every place we go.”

The door to Brienne and Jaime’s rooms opened and Brienne stepped out into the hall, clearly shocked to see all four of her daughters gathered there.

“Well, my goodness, am I late for a meeting? Good morning, my loves, and happy nameday, Bean.” She leaned over to give Joanna a kiss on the cheek. She turned to give the twins the once-over. “I know why you two are here,” she then looked at her two eldest. “But what brings _you_ two here so early?”

Brynna reached out and grabbed Joanna’s hand, pulling her sister to her. “We’re here to see Papa.”

Brienne’s face melted into a knowing smile. “He’ll be so happy.” That’s all she said, as the twins were present. Brynna and Joanna merely smiled back at their mother. Brienne looked at Alysanne and Arianne. “Right, you two, we better get down to the tourney arena. We don’t want to keep Ser Cayle waiting. We’ll see you two at your nameday feast this evening.”

She quickly kissed Joanna and Brynna goodbye and set off with her two younger daughters, leaving the older Lannister sisters standing outside in the now quiet hallway again.

Joanna began pacing and wringing her hands. Brynna folded her arms and scowled at her.

“It’s going to be fine, will you relax already?”

Joanna ignored her sister’s ribbing and stopped to take a few deep breaths.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Brynna nodded and turned to open the door to their parents’ chambers. Poking her head in, she called softly.

“Papa?”

“Out here!” Jaime called from the patio. Brynna entered and walked outside to where he was. She found him sitting with his feet up, enjoying the morning sun and breezes. She beamed her father a bright smile and leaned down to kiss him on the cheek.

“Good morning, Papa.”

“Well, good morning, darling, this is a nice surprise,” Jaime answered, running his hand through his silver and golden hair. “What brings you here so early.”

Brynna straightened up. “We wanted to speak with you.”

Jaime’s brow creased in confusion. “We?”

“Yes, we—” Brynna stopped and huffed, annoyed, as she turned and realized she was standing there alone. Looking back at Jaime, she held up her hand. “One moment.” She disappeared back inside, momentarily reappearing dragging a reluctant Joanna with her.

“We.”

Jaime’s eyes softened and his mouth fell slightly open. Trying to hold back tears, he stood up to face his daughter.

“Hello, Bean,” he whispered. After a few silent moments he smiled. “Happy nameday.”

“Hello, Papa,” Joanna said meekly.

Jaime wanted nothing more than to sweep Joanna up in his embrace and hold on forever, letting her know that he forgave her the instant it had all happened. But seeing her discomfort and hesitation, he kept still.

Brynna looked back and forth between them and finally gestured to the small sofa that was in one of the corners of the outdoor space. “Why don’t we all sit?” She took Jaime’s hand in her other one that wasn’t already clutching Joanna’s, and led them all over to the couch. Jaime sat first, and Brynna deposited Joanna on his left side. She then went and sat on the other side of her father, curling her legs under her and wrapping both of her arms around Jaime’s right arm, offering him an anchor.

Jaime turned to give her a smile. “Always the family mediator.”

“I’m merely here for moral support, Papa,” Brynna said quietly, looking at her sister and giving her an encouraging nod. “Go on, it will be alright.”

Joanna fidgeted a little and looked out over the city, letting the breeze wash over her and calm her nerves. After a few moments, she shuffled closer to Jaime and tentatively reached out to take his hand in both of hers. At long last, she looked up into her father’s eyes.

“Papa, I…I…”

“It’s alright,” Brynna encouraged her. Joanna took a deep breath and nodded. Looking down at her hands holding Jaime’s, she found her strength.

“Papa, I’m so sorry for the things I said to you,” the words started spilling out now. “I was angry and confused and didn’t know what to think, but it doesn’t excuse the awful things I said.”

Jaime’s wrapped his fingers around one of Joanna’s hands, giving her a reassuring squeeze, but remained silent, letting her take her time.

“You’re not a monster,” Joanna whispered, tears starting to slowly fall from her eyes. “You’re the best man I’ve ever known. You’ve always loved us so well, and looked out for all of us. Even Bran, who should hate you thoroughly, sees your worth and admires and trusts your counsel.”

She looked up into Jaime’s eyes again, to find he was crying as well.

“I should have held my tongue, and realized that wasn’t who you were anymore. Please forgive me, Papa. I love you.”

Jaime reached out and pulled Joanna to him, laying her head on his shoulder. Brynna rested her chin on his other shoulder, doing nothing more other than being a steadying presence for both him and her sister.

“My Bean,” Jaime said, smiling through his tears. “I forgave you the moment it happened. There’s nothing you could do that could make me not love you.”

Joanna let out a sob and wrapped her arms around Jaime’s shoulders, grabbing onto Brynna in the process as well. Jaime’s heart swelled to bursting being in the loving embrace of two of his daughters.

“I’m so sorry, Papa,” Joanna repeated.

Jaime kissed the top of her head. “Shhh, it’s alright, Bean.”

“Uncle Tyrion explained everything to us,” Brynna added. “Isn’t that right, Jo?”

Joanna brought her head up and nodded, wiping at her tearstained cheeks. “Yes, he was of great help to us."

Jaime smiled and thought of his brother. Throughout their tumultuous lives, somehow they had always been there for each other.

He reached out and took Joanna’s hand again, and then turned to lay his stump in Brynna’s open palm. Taking a deep breath, he looked back and forth between them.

“I was blind for so long,” he said quietly. “Your aunt was a hateful woman, and for almost thirty years I enabled her rage and her horrible schemes…all because I thought she loved me.”

Joanna clasped his hand in both of hers, while Brynna once again wrapped her arms around his stump and forearm, his girls giving him the support he needed to continue.

“I knew the relationship was wrong from the start,” Jaime continued. “We were twins, how could it _not_ be wrong,” he actually let out a small laugh at that admission. “But we were young, she manipulated me…told me things…filled my head with the notion that we were the only two people in the world that mattered, that only she could love me…things of that nature.”

“That’s what Uncle Tyrion said as well,” Joanna replied softly, rubbing the back of Jaime’s hand.

“And Bran,” Jaime’s voice hitched, causing Brynna to tighten her hold on his arm. “Bean…please believe me…there wasn’t a day that went by after that dreadful occurrence that I didn’t think about him and what I did to him. I carried the guilt with me from that moment on. I suppose I still do and always will, but the gods made sure I paid that debt,” he held up his stump. “This was only the beginning. I lost Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen, as you already know.”

Joanna nodded. “Yes, Papa.”

“I felt as how I imagined Ned and Catelyn Stark felt. I’m sorry you’ll never have the chance to know them, Bean, they were wonderful people. Good and honorable people, and they didn’t deserve the fate they were handed.” Jaime let out a small laugh. “Although, if it hadn’t had been for Lady Catelyn, I never would have met your mother…so I will always be grateful to her for that.”

The girls smiled at that as Jaime grew wistful. “And gods, do I love your mother…more than I ever thought anyone could love. For her, my love is boundless, endless…and I’d do anything for her…for any of you.”

Brynna patted Jaime’s arm. “Speaking of the rest of us…just so you know, Papa, the three of us made a pact.”

Jaime looked confused again. “Who?”

Joanna began talking excitedly. “Uncle Tyrion, Brynna, and I…and Mumma too, by default,” she smiled. “We vowed that no one else needs to know about your past. It would only hurt you further and just make everyone else ask questions, and honestly, they don’t need to know.”

Jaime smiled at that. His girls were protecting him and it warmed his soul.

“That’s not who you are now,” Brynna reaffirmed. “You haven’t been that man or done those things since before you even met Mumma. And as far as the rest of us know, you’ve never been that man, and we’d like to keep it that way.”

Jaime shifted himself so he could put his arms around both of them. Hugging them against him he kissed both of them again on the top of their hair.

“Oh, my girls,” Jaime said. “I don’t have words for how much I love you both, and all of your brothers and sisters.”

“We know, Papa,” Joanna said. “We feel it every day.”

Jaime kissed them each once more and then fixed Joanna with a comical paternal stare, making her and Brynna giggle.

“Now then…about this Bran fellow…”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Galladon fidgeted nervously, Nymeria at his side, as they sat together in the small council chambers. Bran had kindly agreed to let them use the room for the very important conversation they wished to have with both sets of their parents. Seated across from them were Arya, Gendry, and Brienne, with only Jaime left to arrive.

“Will you calm down?” Nymeria whispered to him. “Everything will be fine.”

“Darling, are you alright?” Brienne asked her son. “You look a bit pale.”

Galladon gave her a nervous smile. “Fine, Ser Mumma.”

Nymeria reached out and gave his hand a squeeze…a gesture that did not go unnoticed by the others. Gendry shifted in his seat, folding his hands together in front of him, raising an eyebrow and smirking. His daughter rolled her eyes.

“My apologies,” Jaime’s voice rang out as he entered the room. “Ser Davos and I had a few items to go over.” He walked over to give Brienne a kiss on her temple and then took his seat next to her. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing, Ser Papa,” Galladon answered him. “We waited for you.”

Jaime looked around and drew his brows together. “This sounds serious.”

“What’s going on, you two? Is everything alright?” Arya asked.

Nymeria and Galladon exchanged a look, and when Nymeria realized Galladon was silently panicking, she decided to start the proceedings herself. Keeping a hold on his hand, she took a deep breath.

“Mumma, Papa, Auntie Brienne, Uncle Jaime…we’ve asked to see you because…um…well…we’ve grown rather close over these past few months and we—”

“Auntie Arya, Uncle Gendry…I love your daughter,” Galladon suddenly blurted out, turning crimson in the process.

Gendry’s eyebrows went up, Arya smirked, Brienne put her hand to her chest and smiled, while Jaime looked somewhere between worried and furious. He leaned forward, fixing his son with a fatherly glare.

“Galladon Lannister, so help me, have you gotten her with child?”

“NO!” Both Galladon and Nymeria exclaimed in unison, both of them putting their hands up defensively, making Arya attempt to stifle a laugh.

“We haven’t even lain together!” Nymeria protested, hoping her face didn’t give away the fact that they had been “experimenting” in other ways for the past fortnight.

“I made her a vow, and myself one as well,” Galladon added. “That I would not dishonor her before marriage…uh…if…um…if it comes to that…which I hope it does…someday,” he kept tripping over his words.

Gendry cracked a smile. “I’m very impressed, Galladon. Not many young men would have the restraint that you have shown.”

Galladon looked at Nymeria. “She’s perfect,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t do anything that would bring her dishonor or ruin her reputation.”

Nymeria blushed and gave his hand another squeeze for support.

Arya laid her head on Gendry’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around his right one. “Aren’t they sweet?”

Brienne turned to her husband. “Jaime,” she scolded him. “Don’t scare them like that.”

Jaime gave her a not-so-serious scowl. "I just wanted to be sure, the last thing any of us want is for Nymeria to be hurt." He then turned to the young couple. “My apologies. My son, I’m quite proud of you. Not many would honor a woman so.”

Galladon held his head high with pride. “I had good teachers.”

Brienne smiled and reached for Jaime’s hand, and he could sense a motherly moment coming on. Jaime rolled his eyes but gave her a wink. Brienne turned to the Baratheons.

“What do you think?”

“I absolutely love the idea!” Arya exclaimed. “We’re family anyway, why not make it official?”

“How do you plan on this working?” Gendry asked Galladon. “You’ll be here, she’ll be in Storm’s End. I’m not against the match by any means, in fact I’m over the moon about it, but it might be difficult for some time.”

Nymeria’s face fell. “We hadn’t quite thought that far yet,” she replied sadly.

“Actually,” Galladon interjected. “I think I might have a solution to that.”

“Oh?” Brienne and Jaime said in unison, their brows raised.

“You do?” Nymeria gasped, looking up at him with hopeful grey eyes.

Galladon nodded and swallowed nervously. Looking up at his parents, he closed both of his hands around Nymeria’s.

“Mumma, Papa…I’d like your permission to go to live with grandfather on Tarth.”

Brienne’s mouth fell open while Jaime just stared, dumbfounded. It was silent for several moments as this new piece of the puzzle was digested. When no one spoke, Galladon continued.

“It’s right across the bay from Storm’s End…you can even see each place from the other as you well know. We could go back and forth to visit…and I thought maybe grandfather would like the company of one of his grandchildren.”

Tears formed in Brienne’s eyes, both at the thought of being away from one of her offspring, and also at the thought of Galladon keeping Lord Selwyn company and bringing some familial joy to the Evenstar’s life. She reached across the table to clutch one of her son’s hands.

“Oh, sweetheart, your grandfather would absolutely love to have you there. I think it’s a splendid idea. The only problem would be me missing you,” she smiled at him as a tear rolled down her cheek.

Galladon looked somewhat sad. “I know, Ser Mumma, I’ll miss you all as well.”

Nymeria looked to her parents. “Papa? What do you think?”

Gendry’s blue Baratheon eyes sized up his daughter and her love. After a few moments he leaned forward again.

“Is this really what you want, sweetling?”

Nymeria nodded, her eyes growing misty. “More than anything, Papa. I love him.” She looked up into Galladon’s eyes. “He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. He’s respectful, kind, cares about people and where they come from, what they want out of life.”

Galladon knew she wasn’t just talking about herself. She was talking about Tana, Feresa, and Anari.

“He’s a good man, and he’ll make a wonderful husband, father, and lord.”

Brienne was close to sobbing by now, listening to this young woman give her son such high praise. Jaime slid his chair closer to her so he could rub his stump up and down her back.

Gendry sat back and turned to Brienne and Jaime. “If you are agreeable, as I am, I promise you we will look after him as if he was our own…any of your children are like our own anyway, so it will be a pleasure to have him visit us often, and to trust Nymeria to his and Lord Selwyn’s care when she visits Tarth.”

Arya nodded. “We swear it.”

Brienne nodded through her tears. “Jaime?”

Jaime smiled at his son. “Agreed.”

Nymeria squealed and threw her arms around Galladon, both of them beaming bright smiles.

“Thank you, Uncle Gendry, Auntie Arya, Ser Mumma, Ser Papa,” Galladon said. “I promise I’ll send ravens all the time and we’ll visit as often as we can.”

Brienne sighed. “Your grandfather will be ecstatic to have one of his grandchildren living with him. He’s not alone by any means, but having family around will make him so happy.”

“I’ll look after him, Ser Mumma, I promise.” Galladon winked at her, looking distressingly like his father. When Brienne let out a sob, Galladon rose and walked around the table to her, kneeling down in front of her and putting his arms around her.

“Don’t be sad, I will always be reachable, and I’ll always love you.”

Brienne cried into her son’s golden curls, holding him tightly to her. Jaime reached over to embrace them both in his arms.

Nymeria took the opportunity to go over to her own parents and embrace them as well. Sitting down in Gendry’s lap, she put one arm around each of them.

“Thank you, Papa and Mumma, thank you.”

Galladon stayed kneeling in front of his mother and lifted his head to once again look at the Baratheons. He let out a laugh.

“So, with all of that said…Uncle Gendry, Auntie Arya, I would like to ask formal permission to court your daughter, with the hopes of marrying her someday.”

"Two in one week," Brienne said to Jaime. He nodded and gave her a sad smile.

"Our babes are growing up, love."

Arya's face took on a look of confusion. "Two? Who else is spoken for?"

Brienne and Jaime shared a secret smile before Brienne turned to Arya.

"All will be revealed at supper tonight."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The dining hall rang out with laughter and celebration as the Lannisters, Starks, Baratheons, and their clan of friends and extended family came together to celebrate Joanna’s twentieth nameday. Wine and ale flowed as those gathered feasted on roasted venison and chicken, potatoes, roasted carrots and greens, and freshly baked bread with honey butter.

“Save room for dessert, everyone!” Tyrion raised his glass and yelled over the cacophony. There was a collective groan as people fell back into their seats patting their stomachs. Tyrion reached for Sansa’s hand to steady himself as he stood up on his chair. Raising his goblet, he looked to Joanna.

“To the wonderful favorite of all of my twenty-year-old nieces,” he waited as the snorts of laughter died down. “I couldn’t be prouder of the woman you’ve become, and I hope I will always remain your favorite uncle.”

“You’re my _only_ uncle, Uncle Tyrion,” Joanna shook her head and gave him a smile. “Just as I am your _only_ twenty-year-old niece.”

“That’s hardly the point,” Tyrion answered. Everyone laughed again as Tyrion held his goblet aloft. “To Joanna, happy nameday, sweetling.”

Shouts of “hear, hear” and “happy nameday” arose all around the table. Joanna blushed and smiled wide, looking around at everyone gathered there to celebrate her. Her family, of course, as well as the Baratheons, the Starks, Ser Davos and his wife, Sam, Gilly, and their children, Podrick and his family, Meera, who had stayed in King’s Landing until Sansa was to depart; and even Bronn was in attendance. Since Joanna and Podrick had been given the night off to celebrate, the rest of the Kingsguard stood scattered about the hall, with Deston being the closest by Bran’s request, so that he could be near Brynna. Deston had found the King’s gesture rather endearing.

“Thank you, all,” Joanna replied, raising her own goblet in salute back at all of them. “Having you all here with me means so much to me. I love all of you.”

Bran had given up his usual spot at the head of the table to his betrothed so that she could be the focus of attention on her special day. He sat now watching her, his eyes warm and full of emotion and admiration. Brynna, who was always observing everything, noticed and smiled.

She then looked up at Deston, who stood silently behind Bran. Only his eyes moved as he looked down at her and gave her a wink. Brynna giggled before winking back. She then turned to Galladon who was seated beside her.

“I can’t believe you’re actually leaving,” she pouted at him. “But I’m so happy for you both, it will be a great pleasure to call you goodsister someday,” she said to Nymeria, seated on Galladon’s other side.

Nymeria smiled and reached across Galladon to grab Brynna’s hand.

“Promise you’ll come visit Storm’s End sometime.”

“Oh, I’d love that,” Brynna replied with a wicked smile. “It will give me a chance to tell you all the embarrassing things Gall did as a child.”

“Don’t you dare,” Galladon gave Brynna a side-eyed glance.

“But dear brother, I think she should know about how when you had just barely begun walking, you used to escape your bathtub and run naked and soapy up and down the hallways and make Mumma chase you.”

“Brynna!”

“He did? Oh, how cute that must have been!” Nymeria squealed, clapping her hands together. “I’ll bet you had the cutest little behind running—”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Galladon interrupted, turning beet red. The girls both laughed and then Nymeria kissed him on the cheek.

“What about the time you decided you were going to cut my hair?” Selwyn said from across the table. “How old were we? Seven? Eight?”

“That definitely wasn’t one of my better decisions,” Galladon laughed. “You had a bald spot for weeks.”

Selwyn chuckled. “Yes, I did, and Papa did his best to act angry but he wasn’t convincing anyone. I think Mumma was more angry at him than she was at us.”

“Oh, gods, I remember that,” Brynna rolled her eyes. “That was just as bad as the time the twins wanted to dye their hair dark using molasses and Mumma had to chop their hair off.”

“Brynnaaaaa,” Alysanne whined, sitting next to Selwyn. “Why are you bringing that up?” She laughed and laid her head dramatically on the table.

“It was your idea,” Arianne quipped, holding young Brienne Payne on her lap.

Alysanne’s head came up, her eyes wide. “It was not! It was both of us!”

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember that at all,” Arianne said, remaining calm and aloof.

“Oh, stop it, yes you do,” Alysanne playfully slapped her twin’s arm.

The merriment continued on around the table. Bran sat quietly observing everyone, relishing in the smiles, the hugs, the stories being told. He realized for the first time in a long time that he was at complete peace. Reaching for Joanna’s hand, he looked at her and raised his eyebrows in question. Knowing what he was asking, she smiled and nodded at him.

Bran picked up his fork and tapped it on the side of his goblet. Almost instantly, all of the conversations around the table died down until ultimately Bran had everyone’s full attention.

“I just wanted to say how happy I am to have you all here,” he started. “It is a rare gift to have all of your family and friends in one place at one time. However, I can’t let it go unnoticed that there is one of us missing.”

He was met with confused looks from almost everyone. Bran looked to Brienne. “If you will permit me, I received a raven yesterday with instructions to read it to you all tonight in celebration of Joanna’s nameday.

Brienne drew her brows together in confusion, but nodded at him to continue. Bran smiled like he knew a secret and proceeded to unroll the parchment he had in one of his sleeves.

“My darling Joanna,” he began. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you today on your very special twentieth nameday. I am so proud of you and all your accomplishments, and especially of the woman you have become. I miss you and your brothers and sisters so much, but do not despair, for I will see you all soon. Happy Nameday, my dear girl, I love you. Your loving grandfather, Lord Selwyn.”

“Oh Bean,” Brienne said, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Mumma,” Joanna looked back at Brienne, her own eyes teary.

Jaime leaned over to put his right arm around Brienne, and took her hand in his, stroking the back of it with his thumb. Brienne leaned against him, whereupon he placed a gentle kiss on her temple. He then reached up to fiddle with her sapphire necklace before kissing her again.

“I would also like to add something to the proceedings,” Bran started speaking once again. Reaching over to grasp Joanna’s hand, he turned to face everyone.

This drew _many_ confused but curious looks, people shifting their chairs for a better view.

“I would like to let you all in on a little secret,” Bran gave a cheeky smirk, causing smiles and laughter from everyone. Bringing Joanna’s knuckles up to his lips, he gave her a chaste kiss on the hand. Arya began to slowly rise from her seat, leaning over the table, her eyes wide and her face intrigued.

“I love this woman, and I am so lucky that she loves me in return,” Bran proudly stated. “And we would like to make it known to all of you that we are betrothed, and she will be your new queen.”

Gasps and delighted shrieks sounded all around the table. Arya’s hands flew to her mouth, Sansa’s mouth dropped open, Selwyn, Arianne, and Alysanne sat with wide eyes and gaping mouths. Brynna sat up straight in her chair looking like the cat that got the cream, and Brienne and Jaime merely looked at each other and gave each other knowing grins.

Galladon, who had been in the middle of taking a drink, slammed his goblet on the table and pointed at his sister.

“I _knew_ it! I knew you had feelings for him!” He gave her a look of smug triumph. Everyone burst out laughing, egging him on.

Joanna scowled at him. “No, you didn’t,” she chuckled.

“I did! That day near the training yard, when we…encountered each other in the hallway,” he hinted, hoping he wasn’t going to have to come out and remind her when she had caught him coming back from one of his makeout sessions. “Remember, I said shouldn’t you be somewhere…” he gestured at her, hoping he didn’t have to finish that sentence and let Bran know he had teased his sister about watching the king take a shit. “You got rather upset with me.”

Joanna narrowed her eyes, looking like if her brother continued on with this revelation she would leap across the table and tackle him.

“Ah yes,” she said quietly.

Galladon lifted the corner of his mouth in a very Jaime-like smirk, knowing he had his sister cornered. “Admit it, I knew,” he sat back in his chair, sprawling himself out like the smug victor.

Joanna slowly leaned forward, fixing her green eyes on her brother. “That may be so, dear brother, but you forget, I _also_ know things…and I am about to be your _queen,_ so I’d watch myself if I were you.”

This brought a new round of laughter and an annoyed look from Galladon.

“That’s cheating,” he sulked.

“Maybe so, but it will keep you in line,” Joanna smiled at him nonetheless.

Galladon snorted and shook his head, raising his goblet. “Whatever you say, Your Graciousness,” he snarked and then stuck his tongue out at her.

Arthur, who had been sitting with Pod’s family, suddenly appeared at Joanna’s side, quiet as always. Joanna actually startled a bit as his abrupt appearance.

“Hello, kitten,” Joanna reached out to pull her youngest brother to her.

“Happy nameday, sister,” Arthur said softly, leaning down to hug her. Joanna pulled him into her lap, hugging him tightly to her and kissing his curls.

“You’re getting too big for this sort of thing,” she pouted at him. “I will miss being able to throw you about like this.”

Arthur smiled and rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, Jo, I promise, no matter how big I get I’ll always let you sit me on your lap.”

Joanna squeezed him again. “Oh, sweetling, thank you,” she laughed. “Although you may crush me once you’re full grown.”

“Count on it,” Arthur replied.

Joanna’s jaw dropped. “Why, kitten, did you just make a jape?” She ticked him around his ribs. Arthur giggled and squirmed.

“Yes,” he said through laughing. Joanna stopped and looked at him.

“You really are something,” she whispered to him, reaching up to smooth his errant curls down. “You have such a good heart, and you always want to help people. You’re going to make a wonderful knight someday.”

“I hope so, I want to be just like you, and Mumma, and Papa, and Galladon.”

“Well, maybe not so much like Galladon,” Joanna said, snickering.

Arthur smiled. “That was a jape, too.”

“Maybe it was, my darling.”

The desserts were then brought out by the kitchen servers, causing another bout of cheers and applause. Joanna moved over in her chair, making room for Arthur to sit next to her.

“Have dessert with me?”

Arthur nodded enthusiastically. “Okay.”

The eating and revelry went on past midnight, with people in varying stages of drunkenness eventually sporadically excusing themselves and retiring to their rooms. Arthur was now asleep in Brienne’s lap, having stuffed himself on cake, pie, tarts, and whatever else Joanna had shoved his way. Jaime, never able to resist his son when he was around him, kept leaning over to kiss Arthur on the top of his head.

Alysanne and Arianne excused themselves and started off to their room. Selwyn took the chance to leave himself, saying he would see the girls back to “Lannister Row”. Galladon knew, however, that Selwyn was most likely headed for the brothel.

Little by little, everyone had left, until only Brienne, Jaime, a sleeping Arthur, Joanna, Bran, Deston, and Brynna were left.

“What a wonderful evening,” Brynna sighed. “I couldn’t eat or drink another thing.”

Bran expelled a long puff of air. “Neither could I, but it was great fun, and now we’re official, which makes me even happier,” he brought Joanna’s hand up to his lips to kiss it again. Joanna blushed and smiled.

“I couldn’t be happier either,” she replied. She then turned to her parents. “Thank you Mumma, and Papa, for your blessing and your support.”

“Of course, Bean,” Brienne replied, shifting Arthur on her lap. “Wow, is he getting heavy.”

“Here, give him to me,” Jaime said, holding out his arms. Between the two of them, they somehow managed to slide Arthur over onto his father’s lap without waking him. Jaime immediately put his arms around his son and laid his cheek on Arthur’s hair.

“So, Brynn,” Joanna started, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Now than Bran and I are official, is there anything you’d like to say?” She gave her sister a smirk and waggled her eyebrows at her.

Brynna beamed Joanna a bright smile. “Why, yes, sister, there is actually.” She rose from her chair and moved to stand next to Deston, reaching for his hand to clutch it in between both of hers.

Brienne and Jaime wondered what was going on, and Brienne sat up a bit straighter in her chair.

Brynna bit her bottom lip and bounced on the balls of her feet. Deston stood straight and formally, holding back a smile as best he could.

“Mumma, Papa…we have something we’d like to ask you.”

Brienne and Jaime shared a look and Jaime eventually smiled and shook his head.

“Make that _three_ in one week.”

“My heart can’t take this,” Brienne said, laughing.


	24. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrapping the whole thing up! And another glimpse into the Lannister brood's future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Here we are again. I cannot BELIEVE that this turned into a 100,000+ word fic. It just sort of grew and grew until it took on a life of its own. Thank you all SO, SO much for reading, commenting, sending me messages telling me how much you have loved this series. It means EVERYTHING to me and I love all of you who took the time to reach out.
> 
> These characters seem to have become my own (the Lannister kids especially...as they ARE my own LOL) and I love them all. 
> 
> This story was really about Bran and Jaime, both striving for humanity in different ways. Bran in the fact that he wanted control over his powers, to be himself again, to want and partake in things that human beings do. For Jaime, it was about shedding the feeling that he was a monster, and that his past would always haunt him. After the blowup with Joanna, he wanted his humanity and his dignity and his happiness back.
> 
> Thank you again for coming along on this ride with me, and for loving these characters as much as I do. And stay tuned! I might even have one more left in me to fully complete the series haha.

**THREE YEARS LATER**

Jaime walked slowly around the open courtyard, pointing out places on the large map on the floor to the infant cradled in his arms. The only problem was, said infant was much more interested in thoroughly studying his grandfather’s face rather than what he was being shown.

“And this is Tarth, where your grandmumma is from,” he said, stopping to stand near where the island was painted. “You’ll see it someday soon,” Jaime lightly bounced the baby in the crook of his right arm. “It’s a magical place.”

Jaime stopped and peered down at his grandson, who was intently staring back, his tiny brow furrowed in concentration. Jaime sighed.

“Well, judging from that look, you either have a lot on your mind…or you’re about to shit your pants.”

He brought his left hand up and stuck out his index finger. His grandson looked at it, huffed out a breath, kicked his legs and grasped the offered digit in one tiny fist. Jaime smirked.

“You are very serious you know. You remind me of your grandfather. He was very serious all the time.” Jaime sighed again. “I suppose it’s a good thing you have his name…_Prince_ Eddard.”

Baby Eddard Lannister-Stark looked up at Jaime’s face again, his dark eyes always searching. Jaime ran his finger softly down Eddard’s cheek. “That hair is all Lannister though,” he said proudly, fingering the blonde fuzz on the babe’s head. Eddard smiled and kicked his feet again.

Brienne appeared from the small council chamber nearby and tiptoed over to Jaime, pretending to sneak up on Eddard.

“Uh oh, here comes grandmumma,” Jaime said, turning Eddard around so he could see her. “Pretend you don’t see her so you don’t hurt her feelings.”

Brienne scowled at him but continued over until she planted a gentle kiss on Eddard’s head. “Hello, my little darling,” she cooed, maternal all over again. She began planting loud kisses all over his cheeks. Eddard squealed and squirmed in Jaime’s arms, giving Brienne a toothless grin.

Jaime laughed and offered Brienne her grandson. “Here,” he said, handing the babe off to her. Brienne gasped dramatically and smiled as she took him in her arms.

“There’s my beautiful boy,” Brienne said, bouncing him gently. Eddard gave her a small laugh. Brienne looked up at Jaime with tears in her eyes. “Oh, my love, holding a baby again brings up so many feelings and memories.”

Jaime smiled and put his arm around her, stroking Eddard’s head with his hand. “I know, it makes me wish you were pregnant again.”

Brienne rolled her eyes. “You always say that,” she chuckled. Jaime kissed her softly on the cheek as she made silly faces at Eddard.

“I can’t help it,” Jaime replied. “It got my juices flowing,” he purred against her ear. Brienne giggled.

“So you keep telling me,” she turned her face to nuzzle his nose. “You shouldn’t say such things in front of our grandson. He’s a prince and must be well-behaved.”

Jaime gave her a look. “I haven’t known many well-behaved princes in my lifetime,” he muttered sarcastically.

“Are you two monopolizing my son again?” Joanna appeared at their sides.

“Absolutely,” Brienne said to Eddard, holding him up in front of her and covering his face in more kisses like she used to do to all of her children.

Joanna smiled at her mother, watching her play with her grandson. After having accepted that she would never have children with Bran, Samwell Tarly came to them a year and a half after they were married, wanting to try a progressive form of medicine he had been studying. He had learned a way for a couple to conceive without laying together. It would still be their baby, just brought about in a different way. Sam had kept everything extremely private and was very sensitive to Bran and Joanna’s needs and dignity, and thus Eddard Lannister-Stark became the first artificially inseminated baby in Westeros’ history.

Brienne reluctantly handed Eddard over to his mother just as Selwyn arrived, pushing Bran’s wheelchair. Now eight and ten, Selwyn had filled out into manhood a bit more, and like his older brother and father, had only gotten even more ridiculously good-looking.

Bran beamed his wife a bright smile. “Well, Your Grace, Queen Ser Joanna Lannister-Stark of Tarth,” he said, laughing.

“Oi, that’s a mouthful,” Selwyn quipped, leaning down on the back of Bran’s chair. Bran shot him an amused look over his shoulder before turning back and reaching for Joanna’s hand. Pulling it to his lips, he softly kissed it. He then surprised his wife by pulled her gently into his lap.

Joanna giggled and situated herself as Bran put his arms around her and leaned his head against her shoulder, staring lovingly at their son. Eddard gurgled and cooed while looking from one of his parents to the other, and then kicked his legs and flailed his arms in greeting. Joanna and Bran were both completely besotted.

Brynna entered the courtyard, heavily pregnant herself at seven months. Her husband, Deston, as usual, was right beside her, gallantly helping her with anything she needed. Right now, all she needed was the steady strength of his arm to hold onto. Once they had reached the others, Deston handed Brynna off to Jaime and then scurried off and momentarily returned with a chair for her to sit on.

“Thank you, my love,” she smiled at him as she slowly sat down. Deston immediately begin gently rubbing Brynna’s shoulders as she leaned back into him, sighing happily and groaning appreciatively at his touch. “Thank you, that feels wonderful.”

Brienne gave Jaime an amused look, remembering when he used to massage all parts of her body when she was pregnant. Jaime winked at her.

“How are you feeling, Brynn?” Joanna asked her sister.

“Big,” Brynna replied with a smile.

“And utterly gorgeous,” Deston added, leaning down to kiss the top of Brynna’s head. Brynna looked up at him and smiled.

Jaime nudged Brienne. “See? It’s not just me,” he whispered huskily in her ear. Brienne elbowed him playfully in the ribs.

“You’re just saying that because you have to,” Brynna teased her husband.

Deston put on a face of mock offense. “I am not,” he gasped dramatically. “I’m saying it because it’s true, my dear.” He was so excited about impending fatherhood and he doted on Brynna night and day. Brynna, in turn, made sure she played music and sang to her unborn child at least once a day. Joanna always brought Eddard to her during those times so he could listen as well.

The Baratheon clan arrived next, with Arya immediately squealing and running over to her brother and his wife to get a look at her new nephew. She danced around them trying to get a look at him from every angle.

“Oh, my goodness! I can’t believe I have a nephew!” She kissed Bran and then Joanna and then ran to hug Brienne before returning to gawk over her newest relative. She knelt down next to Bran’s chair and began making noises and playing with Eddard. “Hello, sweetling, I’m your Auntie Arya.”

“And I’m your Auntie Sansa,” the Queen in the North had just appeared over her sister’s shoulder, with Tyrion in tow. She greeted everyone and then just like Arya, went right back to fussing over Eddard.

Gendry, followed by Nymeria, who was now nineteen, walked over to embrace Brienne. Brienne then wrapped her future gooddaughter in a bear hug.

“Oh, my beautiful girl, you look wonderful.”

Nymeria squeezed Brienne tightly. “Hello, goodmother.” She had already taken to calling Brienne that as if she and Galladon were already married. Brienne smiled.

“How is my son?” she asked. “You see him more than I do these days,” she remarked, giving Gendry a wry grin.

Gendry laughed. “He’s just fine, don’t worry, we keep an eye on him to make sure he’s alright.”

Brienne suddenly realized Galladon wasn’t present. “Where is he? He didn’t sail with you?”

Nymeria shook her head. “He should be here within the hour. He sailed directly from Tarth, he said he was bringing you something special. He wouldn’t give me any more information than that,” she shrugged.

“Oh, alright then,” Brienne said, confused. She then began stroking Nymeria’s hair. “I can’t believe in just one moon we’ll all be gathering at Storm’s End for your wedding. Our family just keeps growing.”

“I can’t wait,” Nymeria said. “I want nothing more than to be your gooddaughter…and marry that boy.”

Brienne snickered and kissed Nymeria’s hair. “Oh, my darling.”

Nymeria and Galladon had spent the last three years going back and forth across Shipbreaker Bay to see each other. Sometimes Galladon would spend a few weeks or a month at Storm’s End, and then Nymeria would reciprocate and spend time on Tarth. While they got to see each other often, they both were itching to finally be married and together all the time…and to at long last consummate their relationship.

Now-sixteen-year-olds Alysanne and Arianne showed up, chattering to each other as always. They had grown out of their gangly early teen years into refined young ladies, although Alysanne was somewhat of a tomboy like Brienne had been. Today, however, they were dressed for court like everyone else, waiting for the presentation ceremony of their nephew. The older they got, the more they resembled the duality of their parents. Alysanne was pale and soft, with Brienne’s blue eyes and white-blonde hair. Arianne was golden, tanned, and green-eyed like Jaime.

Arthur, now four and ten and as tall as his older sisters, had started to become somewhat less shy now that he was getting a bit older. His fighting and his looks were unmatched by anyone in the realm, though he remained humble and honorable. He and his best friend, Garrad Payne, had become inseparable, and even now they entered the courtyard together, followed by Podrick and the rest of his family.

“By the gods, look at this one,” Sansa exclaimed, taking in Arthur’s appearance. “Someone hit a growth spurt,” she laughed. Arthur smiled at her and leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Hello, Auntie Sansa, it’s good to see you,” Arthur said softly. He then walked over to Joanna and held out his arms. “May I?”

“Of course, kitten,” Joanna beamed up at her youngest brother. She placed Eddard in his arms and once Arthur adjusted him to where they were both comfortable, he began walking around lightly rocking him the way Jaime had, smiling and talking quietly to him.

Bran watched Arthur with his son, narrowing his eyes as if lost in thought. Rubbing a hand up and down Joanna’s back, he leaned close to whisper in her ear.

“He’s going to do a great service to the lost children of this world someday.”

Joanna looked down and leaned her head in closer to her husband’s. “Really? How so?”

“I don’t want to reveal anything in case it doesn’t come to pass,” Bran whispered back. “Remember my love, we cannot interfere in other’s lives. But suffice it to say, he’s going to make a name for himself and become a symbol of hope for those who have none.”

“Arthur is such a gentle soul,” Joanna replied. “He loves people and he loves to help. It makes me want to protect him,” she laughed wistfully.

“He’ll be alright, darling,” Bran soothed her. “He will have his trials in life, just like all of us, but he’ll come out just fine and better for it.”

Joanna kissed Bran on the forehead. “I hope so, my love.”

Bran wrapped his arms more tightly around Joanna’s waist. “I can’t believe we have a son,” he said, smiling up at her, his brown eyes sparkling. “I never knew I could be this happy…and it’s all thanks to you.”

Joanna smiled back at him and wrapped her arms around his head, making him laugh as she pulled him closer, kissing the top of his head.

More and more people entered the courtyard, gathering before the ceremony. Selwyn noticeably brightened when Ser Davos and his wife appeared. Davos had completely taken Selwyn on as an apprentice and was grooming him to take over as Master of Ships, as Davos was now counting the days until he could retire on Tarth. Selwyn, in turn, had taken to sailing apprenticeship like a fish to water, so to speak, and was often happier on a ship than on land.

Tyrion approached Bran and Joanna, taking his niece’s hand and kissing it loudly.

“My little girl,” he smiled with tears in his eyes. “Look at you…Queen of the Six Kingdoms and a _mother._ How time does fly.” He couldn't help but think sadly that this is what Cersei could have been if she hadn't been so consumed by power and greed.

Joanna leaned forward to grasp both of her uncle’s hands. “I wouldn’t be here without you, Uncle, your counsel and your wisdom…and your love. You were the one who showed me what love really is, apart from Mumma and Papa...and this handsome gentleman of course,” she ruffled Bran’s hair.

Bran blushed and laughed, reaching out to put a hand on Tyrion’s shoulder. “You have served me well, Tyrion. A king could not ask for a better Hand. Thank you.”

“Am I going somewhere?” Tyrion looked between them, raising an eyebrow. Joanna and Bran laughed.

“No, no, of course not,” Bran answered him. “Just showing my gratitude, that’s all.” Bran looked over at Sansa. “However, when the time is right and you are ready, all you have to do is ask, and I will send you off to my sister.”

Now it was Tyrion’s turn to blush. “Your Grace sees many things.”

“No, I see _everything,”_ Bran rolled his eyes.

Everyone was so engrossed in conversations that no one saw Galladon arrive. He was actually happy about that fact, as he was attempting to slip in quietly, in order to present his mother with a surprise. Making his way slowly around the outside of the columns lining the courtyard, he eventually came up behind Brienne and reached out to tap her on the shoulder.

“Hello, Ser Mumma.”

Brienne knew his voice immediately, and judging by the way Jaime’s face had erupted in joy, she knew it was her eldest son. What she wasn’t expecting, however, was who he had with him.

“Galladon, my love, how did—” her words immediately halted in her throat as she turned around to face him. Her hands then flew to her mouth and she let out a loud sob as she burst into tears.

“Hello, my Starlight.”

Older, slightly bent, leaning on a cane and on Galladon’s arm, but no less of an impressive figure, stood Lord Selwyn Tarth. He gave his daughter his brightest smile and opened his arms to her. Brienne immediately gathered her father in an embrace.

“Oh, Father,” she wept against him. “I’m so happy you’re here. Are you alright? How was the journey? Was it difficult?” She peppered him with questions as she clung to him. Selwyn let out one of his trademark booming laughs.

“I’m fine, Starlight, I’m fine,” Selwyn said, reaching around Brienne to squeeze Jaime’s arm. “Hello, Jaime,” he said softly, with tears in his own eyes.

Jaime moved forward to embrace both his wife and his goodfather at the same time. “Hello, my Lord.”

Brienne broke the embrace to pull Galladon to her. “You little sneak,” she laughed at him through her tears, ruffling his golden curls.

“Surprise!” He said, grinning. “I wanted grandfather to be here for his great-grandson’s presentation. I thought it only fitting.”

He was immediately almost tackled by Nymeria, who threw her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Once Galladon steadied them, he slipped his arms around her and looked up into her face. Nymeria began accosting him with kisses.

“I missed you, Golden Boy,” she said in between pecks.

“So I see,” Galladon teased her.

Nymeria turned her head. “Hello, Lord Selwyn, what a lovely surprise!”

Selwyn winked at her. “Hello, little one.” He then turned to Brienne and Jaime. “This one is quite the spitfire,” he chuckled. “Always a joy whenever she comes to visit us on Tarth.”

Galladon blushed and Nymeria beamed with pride. “You’ll be at the wedding next month, I hope,” she said excitedly.

“Don’t worry, my dear, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Lord Selwyn said.

Jaime wandered off to get his goodfather a chair. Once retrieving one, he set it next to Brynna, Bran, and Joanna. Both the girls lit up with excitement.

“Grandfather!” Brynna and Joanna both exclaimed in unison. Joanna jumped up to hug him, while Brynna reached for his hand. Before taking a seat, Selwyn bowed before Bran.

“Your Grace, it is good to see you.”

“Not as good as it is to see you, Lord Selwyn.”

Selwyn sat down next to his granddaughters. “Oh, my girls, my beautiful girls,” he fawned over them. “Brynna! By the gods look at you!” He reached out to put a gentle hand on her rounded stomach. She giggled and placed her hand over his.

“I know, only a couple more moons to go and you’ll have a second great-grandchild.”

“Speaking of which, where is my _first_ great-grandchild?” He laughed.

“Arthur has him,” Joanna said, once again seated on Bran’s lap and straining to look around for her brother. Upon finally finding him she waved him over. “Arthur, sweetling, look who’s here.”

Arthur’s face lit up. “Grandfather!”

“My goodness, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Lord Selwyn replied. “You’ve gotten so big!” His eyes then dropped to the bundle in Arthur’s arms. “So, this is Eddard,” he said softly, his eyes lighting up in wonder.

“Yes, this is Eddard,” Joanna said, motioning for Arthur to hand the babe over to his great-grandfather. Lord Selwyn and Eddard regarded each other for a few moments, the older man’s face a mask of pure delight.

“So serious,” Lord Selwyn chuckled. Bran snorted.

“Yes, I’m afraid that’s the Stark side coming out.”

Alysanne and Arianne came running over to greet and embrace their grandfather.

“More of my beautiful granddaughters!” Lord Selwyn was in heaven surrounded by his grandchildren. He noted one was missing, however. “Where is my rascal namesake?”

“Right here,” Selwyn the Younger walked up behind him and placed his hands on his grandfather’s shoulders. “Hello, Grandpapa.”

Lord Selwyn looked around at all of them, pride filling his chest. “I can’t believe how big you’re all getting.”

Brynna put her hands on her stomach. “Some of us more than others.”

They all laughed as Galladon walked over to kiss her on the top of her head. “You look radiant, sister.”

Nymeria threw her arms around Brynna from behind and kissed her on the cheek. Brienne and Jaime joined the group and there, in the rarest of moments, the entire Tarth-Lannister-Stark clan was together.

“You know, I think I’d like to say something,” Tyrion suddenly spoke up.

“That’s not surprising,” Jaime snarked, causing another round of laughs.

Giving his brother a scowl, Tyrion reached for Sansa’s hand and continued.

“I just want us all to take a moment and look around. Look around at this wonderful, pieced-together little family of ours. Gods know we all came from completely different backgrounds, lands, and some of us, if not all of us, were actually enemies at one point in our lives.”

Jaime put his arms around Brienne from behind and squeezed her tightly. She smiled and leaned her temple against his. Gendry put an arm around Arya and pulled her close. Tyrion went on.

“And now…here we stand, brothers and sisters, husbands and wives, parents and children, each one of us willing to lay down our lives for any single one of the others without question. We may not all be blood…but we are all family, and no one can take that from us.” He gestured to Lord Selwyn. “And now, our legacy continues on, as the eldest of us holds the newest member of our ranks, with even more coming,” he gestured at Brynna, who smiled back. “May we forever stay together, stay in touch, and stay in love.”

“Hear, hear,” Galladon said.

Joanna was crying. “Oh, Uncle Tyrion.”

“I’m sorry, my dear, forgive me for being sentimental,” Tyrion quipped. He was about to say something else when the Keep’s bell tolled, signaling for everyone to start gathering in the throne room.

“Ah hah! It is time!” Tyrion shouted. Everyone gave a small cheer and began slowly filing out of the courtyard to make their way to the ceremony.

“Who would have ever guessed that we’d have a Stark grandson?” Jaime said, laying his chin on Brienne’s shoulder. She leaned back into him and stroked his hand where it rested against her stomach.

“It’s all come full circle,” Brienne whispered, her voice shaky with emotion. “We’ve kept our vow to Lady Catelyn…we kept her children safe, and now they’re a part of our family.” Brienne kissed him on the cheek. “I’m going to walk Father in to the throne room, I’ll see you inside?”

“Of course, my love, I’ll be right beside you.”

Brienne gave him one more kiss and went off to escort Lord Selwyn to the ceremony. Jaime watched them go when suddenly Joanna appeared at his side. They smiled at each other as she linked her arm through his.

“How are you holding up, grandpa?” She asked her father. Jaime smiled and wiped a tear away.

“Bean, I feel as if I’m about to burst into a million pieces of light,” he said. “I couldn’t be more proud of you, of this family, of Bran…all of us.”

“And I couldn’t be more proud of _you,”_ Joanna said, tears coming to her eyes. “I love you, Papa, you’re the best man I know. Certainly one who loves his family with all that he is.”

A lump formed in Jaime’s throat as he digested what Joanna had just proclaimed.

“Oh, Bean…”

At that moment Joanna jumped into Jaime’s arms and hugged him tightly, wordlessly showing her father how much he was loved. After a few moments, she stood back and straightened her gown.

“We all love you so, so much, don’t ever doubt that.”

Jaime wiped away his tears and then reached out to stroke his daughter’s cheek. He smiled and nodded. Joanna took a deep breath and reached for his arm again.

“Now then, let us go and see your grandson’s presentation to his people.”

Jaime grinned made a sweeping motion with his other arm. “Let us go, Your Grace.”

Joanna rolled her eyes and huffed. “Oh, Papa, stop it.”

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The Lannister clan eventually sprouted their wings and made their ways in the world. While they were all mostly apart from one another, they kept up the tradition started by the Starks, where they would all send ravens to each other every sennight. They were able to keep up with the happenings in each other’s lives that way, and it made the longing to be together that much easier to bear. They also all made sure to make the time to visit each other whenever they could.

Joanna and Bran had one of the most peaceful and prosperous reigns that Westeros had ever known. They ruled justly and honorably, making sure to listen to their people’s needs, wants, and troubles. They were happy, and Bran very much respected Joanna as his queen, making sure to include her in all decisions, and always asking her opinions and advice. Joanna inspired respect and admiration from the populace, being the first woman to be both a knight and a queen. In turn, she was kind to her people and was often found wandering amongst them either in the training yard, or even the marketplaces. She also brought Bran more out of his shell, and he felt more comfortable going out into the city with Joanna and talking with the people, no longer feeling like a broken, inhuman man. In fact, he became quite charming and outgoing and he loved talking with his populace.

Because Bran was insistent that the succession of kings and queens was now a democratically voted appointment, he saw no need to automatically assume his son would follow in his footsteps. So, when Sansa came to them and asked if they would consider letting Eddard take over as King in the North when she felt it was time to step down, Bran and Joanna happily agreed, for there must always be a Stark in Winterfell.

Many years later, when Bran passed, Joanna brought his body back to be laid in the Winterfell crypts with his ancestors. Rather than return south, Joanna lived out her days at Winterfell with her son, Sansa, and Tyrion, and was laid to rest next to her beloved Bran when she passed.

A month after the presentation of Prince Eddard, everyone came together at Storm’s End for Galladon and Nymeria’s wedding. It was a grand affair, and the newlyweds were so excited to at long last consummate their relationship. Much like Brienne and Jaime, once Galladon and Nymeria started, there was little stopping. Once they were settled in at Casterly Rock, they would go on to have five children…two boys and three girls, thus assuring heirs for both Casterly Rock and Storm’s End. Before having left King’s Landing after Prince Eddard’s presentation, Galladon and Nymeria made one last stop at the brothel off Dragon Way. There, they made proposals to Anari, Tana, and Feresa to come be a part of their household as their healer, head cook, and head seamstress, respectively. The three women wept with joy and threw themselves at the chance for a better life at Casterly Rock. Galladon made certain Anari was allowed full access to the Rock’s library, as well as the university in nearby Lannisport, so that she could study her art. When she was ready, he sent Anari off to the Citadel to receive her chain, and thus she became the first female maester in Westeros history. When asked where she wished to serve, there was only one answer, and she made her way straight back to Casterly Rock and lived out her days serving the Lannister family and their children. Galladon also made sure that Feresa’s children were given proper educations and he and Nymeria treated them like two of their own.

Lord Selwyn Tarth passed away peacefully on Tarth at the age of 84, nine years after Prince Eddard’s presentation. Brienne was by his side, and before slipping away, he regaled his daughter with praise and love, telling her how amazingly proud he was of her, and thanking her for the family she and Jaime had given him. Lying next to him as he spoke to her, Brienne had her arms around her father as he died, promising him she would rule fairly and kindly in his stead.

And so, Jaime and Brienne were released from their positions in King’s Landing, with Podrick taking over as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. They moved to Tarth at long last, where Brienne was crowned Evenstar and Jaime, her consort. Both of them were so happy to be living on Tarth at last, where it was peaceful, quiet, and they could swim at their private beach whenever they wanted.

Ser Davos also retired the same time as Jaime and Brienne, and he and his wife also moved to Tarth, like Davos had promised Lord Selwyn all those years ago. Before Davos’ leaving, he was present as Selwyn Lannister was named to the small council as the new Master of Ships.

When it came time for Podrick to retire, he and his family also moved to Tarth, never wanting to be too far from his former knight.

Brynna and Deston went on to have three sons. They lived in King’s Landing until Jaime and Brienne started to get a bit older. When the time was right, Deston was released from the Kingsguard, and they moved their family to Tarth, whereupon Brienne started grooming Brynna to succeed her as Evenstar whenever that day would come, and as a result, Brynna and Deston’s family became the new lineage of Tarth. Brienne and Jaime loved having at least one of their children living with them again, as well as three of their grandchildren.

Selwyn took to his appointment as Master of Ships like a fish to water. He loved the seafaring life and was always itching to go out on his next voyage. He opened up trade with some of the most remote parts of Essos and the far eastern lands. Upon one such voyage, his ship was raided by pirates, and while fighting alongside his crew, he came face to face with the captain of the other ship, which turned out to be an auburn-haired beauty of a woman. After sizing him up for several moments, she merely smiled at him, called her crew off, telling them not to take anything. Before going back to her own ship, she took off the scarf she had been wearing and threw it to Selwyn, giving him the once-over again before disappearing into the night.

Selwyn spent the better part of four years trying to find out who she was and sailed all over Essos and Dorne looking for information about the mysterious pirate lady. Ironically, it was during one of Selwyn’s trips to Tarth that the woman’s ship attempted a raid on the island. When she was arrested and thrown in the Evenfall cells, Selwyn went to see her, finally finding out who she was, and after arranging her release, the two of them embarked on a grand, passionate affair. They never married, but they were partners for most of their lives.

Alysanne was knighted at eighteen, and decided she wanted to help Ser Cayle in the daily runnings of the destriers, palfreys, coursers, and the other horses of the Red Keep stables. Alysanne was truly Brienne’s daughter, preferring leathers and breeches and getting dirty to wearing gowns and pursuing ladies’ activities. She eventually joined the Kingsguard and loved spending time with Joanna and Brynna, as Arianne was off traveling around Essos when she wasn’t at home with her husband in Dorne. It took Alysanne quite a long time to get used to Arianne not being around, and in truth, she never completely came to terms with it, but she found pleasure in her work and in her care of the horses. When she was twenty, the Red Keep hired a new stable keeper, and Alysanne was instantly smitten. After about a year of flirting and secret rendezvous in the stables, she married him with Brienne and Jaime’s blessing. Not caring that her husband was a commoner, Alysanne was happier with him than she would have been with any noble. When they decided it was time to move on from King’s Landing, Alysanne, her husband and their twin daughters moved to Tarth to live with Brienne, Jaime, Brynna, and Deston. This made her even happier because it was closer to Dorne, so she could more easily travel to see Arianne.

Having been fascinated with Dornish and Essosi history from the time she was able to read, Arianne became an ambassador to Essos and traveled extensively throughout her life. She fell in love and married a Dornish noble, thus making Dorne her permanent home. She traveled to Tarth often to visit her family, and because they didn’t do well apart, Alysanne and her family would often go to Dorne to visit her twin.

Arthur Lannister was knighted at fifteen, just as Jaime had been. Also, just like his father, Arthur was the greatest swordsman of his generation, and also the best-looking man in Westeros. He remained quiet and humble, but eventually became less shy with those he trusted. He longed to go out and serve Westeros as a true knight, but he remained in King’s Landing until his best friend, Garrad Payne, had been ready for knighting himself. They then left the capitol together and traveled all over Westeros, helping out wherever they could, meeting people, and learning more about themselves.

One night, while staying at an inn near Fairmarket, Arthur and Garrad realized (or finally admitted) that they were in love. It was somewhat of an epiphany for both of them, knowing they had been so close their entire lives, and it helped Arthur to realize why he had always felt different and was so shy far beyond his childhood years. They knew that men like them were persecuted in Westeros, so they spent their days as two ordinary hedge knights, and spent their nights lying in each other’s arms, swearing to love and protect each other for the rest of their lives. While they were never allowed to marry in the eyes of the law, one night when they encountered a weirwood tree, they clasped hands in front of it and proclaimed “I am his, and he is mine” to each other.

Coming across an orphaned child in a burned-out village in the Riverlands, Arthur and Garrad took her in as their own, and she became their adopted daughter. While appearing to everyone simply as two knights and friends, they knew that eventually it would be difficult to hide their lifestyle. Once Brienne was crowned Evenstar, she and Jaime welcomed Arthur and Garrad with open arms on Tarth, swearing to both of them that they were loved and accepted and would always be protected there. Brienne was also secretly happy to have her baby nearby once more. Podrick, who was also accepting of his son, was also happy to be reunited with him once he and Sosan and Brienne the Younger moved to Tarth.

Always wanting to help the people however they could, Arthur and Garrad, with the help of Arianne, who supplied them with books from Dorne, Oldtown, and abroad, started the Tarth Foundling School, where orphaned children from all over were welcomed to live and receive an education. Arthur and Garrad became surrogate fathers to well over two hundred orphans over the years while they were in their care at the school.

**Excerpt from “The Sapphire Wench”**

Jaime lived to an extremely old age of 98. He wasn’t quite sure how he had been blessed by the gods to make it that long, but he did and he considered himself the happiest man in Westeros. He slowly passed away in Brienne’s lap by the giant hearth in the solar of Evenfall, where he and Selwyn had had their talks all those years ago. Young Brienne and her Galladon still looked on from above the fireplace. Jaime’s last whispered words were simply “I love you, my sapphire wench”. Brienne had her arms around him as he died, thus fulfilling his wish of how he wanted to leave this world. All of their children and grandchildren had been present.

Brienne followed him four years later.

They were laid to rest, forever at each other’s side, in the small private cemetery at the top of the meadow outside Evenfall, alongside the rest of Brienne’s family.

_Oathkeeper_ and _The Sapphire Wench_ were hung over the hearth in the Evenfall great hall, forever crossed and forever together.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So, I did a thing and played around with a face morphing app, and I combined pictures of Nik and Gwen in order to make the Lannister kids (except for Brynna, as the actress Rose Reynolds looks spot on to me). This is what came out, and this is pretty much exactly how I see each one of them in my head. I also morphed Maisie and Joe in order to get Nymeria. Arthur appears a bit older here than he is in the fic, but you get the idea :)


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